


The Rising of a New Dawn

by TacitaNavicularis



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Arranged Marriage, Assassin's Creed (Video Game), Assassin's Creed III, Assassin's Creed III Spoilers, Awkwardness, Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Historical Figures, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Married Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Post-Assassin's Creed III, Romance, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends, Strangers to Lovers, Templars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TacitaNavicularis/pseuds/TacitaNavicularis
Summary: "It is to signify an old promise between our two clans. It is now time to fulfill that promise.""Forgive me. But I have not heard of such a promise." The man nodded understandingly."A marriage has been arranged to strengthen the ties between our peoples."Set immediately after the game when Connor returns to find his village empty. It continues from there to show what happened afterwards, what happened to the Templars, and how Connor met his wife.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor & Original Character(s), Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's small but hopefully the others will be longer. It's going to be a pretty slow start as I have to fit in the wedding negotiations and and the actual wedding ceremony, but I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 1**

13 December 1783 - Kanien'kehá Village, Massachusetts State

Gone.

They were all gone.

The once thriving village stood empty, a shell of what it had been.

Connor walked through the now empty longhouses and thought of a time not long ago when children laughed and played there. He looked at the dead fire pit and remembered the times when he had sat enthralled as a child watching and listening to the Clanmother’s tales or playing and dancing with his friends. His hands clenched into tight fists as he tried to control his temper.

This was his home. No, it had _been_ his home. He had been raised by the people and cared for, they had taught him to be the man he was today, and this is how they had been repaid for their kindness. Thrown out of their lands, their homes, and their lives.

What had he done for them? He had tried to help them by winning the war. Now the war was won. But for whom? For his people?

Connor scoffed. No. at the first chance they could the new Government had taken this land for their own, the Frontiersman had confirmed it the last time he was here. After all that he had done, after all they had promised. It was gone.

Connor sat down on one of the abandoned bunks of the longhouse and buried his head in his hands. Mourning for his people and wondering what was to become of them.

He had failed them, his family. He drifted off into a troubled sleep.

The next morning Connor walked through the village in a blur. The only signs that there ever were people living here were the broken looms and trampled fields. As he walked around the empty village he picked up items that had been left in the haste of his people’s flight. A vain attempt to fix the damage that had been caused.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that the sky was darkening signifying the day’s end. Nor did he notice a snow-covered figure walking into the village and looking around as if looking for someone. The figure spotted Connor and walked towards him.

The sound of the figure’s footsteps crunching in the snow was the only thing that woke Connor from his thoughtful wander. He jumped at this sudden sound and whirled around activating his hidden blade, expecting that the Colonials had come for what was now, according to Washington, _their_ land.

_They could die trying_ , he thought.

The surprised Iroquois man stopped his advance and put up his hands peacefully but no less wary than Connor. His scalp lock blowing in the wind, weather beaten as if from a long journey and wary about the emptiness of the village.

Connor retracted his hidden blade and stood politely, but still on guard, to greet the newcomer.

"Who are you, and why have you come here?" He inquired of the stranger.

"I am an Onondaga from the Bear Clan at Little Water," he said with a quiet lilt in his voice, "I have come on behalf of our Wise Clanmother. Where is the Wise Turtle Clan Leader of the Kanatahséton? I have a message for her." The Onondaga messenger looked around as if he thought the village was just all hiding, Connor wished they were.

“Then I am sorry your travel was in vain. My people have gone, they have left the village" The messenger looked puzzled, Connor continued " This land has been claimed for the White Man, they have left to live upon lands where they can be free. I am the remaining member of my Clan."

"Then you are the leader of this Clan?"

Connor looked quizzically at the Onondaga but nodded. The man looked satisfied.

"Then my message can be delivered to you." He reached behind himself and brought out a white beaded wampum belt and passed it to Connor.

Connor turned it over in his hands and immediately recognized the meaning of the wampum.

Friendship.

However, it was in the craftsmanship and design that caused Connor to pause. He looked at the messenger in a bewildered way.

"This is made by my people?" The Onondaga man nodded his scalp lock swaying from side to side.

"It is to signify an old promise between our two clans. It is now time to fulfill that promise."

"Forgive me. But I have not heard of such a promise." The man nodded understandingly.

"A marriage has been arranged to strengthen the ties between our peoples."

There was a dead silence for a moment. The only sound was the wind whistling through the longhouse. Connor almost suspected the man to say he was joking and leave the way he came. But the man stood patiently waiting for a response.

Connor's mind was whirling, he had not expected something like this. His Clan was gone, chased out by the people he thought would protect them, and now he, the sole member, was expected to fulfill an old promise made. He knew he could not break such a promise, for the Clan's honour was at stake. He thought about this for a time and then broke the silence.

"Forgive me for my silence, but I am astonished by the request." Connor paused again, then continued cautiously, "However, I will consider the promise and fulfill it on behalf of my people if possible."

The Onondaga inclined his head seemingly satisfied by his response.

“My Clan’s Elders will be pleased to meet with you.” He looked outside at the fading light. “I have two horses tied just outside the village. If we start our journey now we will make it to my village on the evening of the twelfth day” He looked at Connor and smiled, “Perhaps ten if we hurry.”

Connor smiled back.

“Then let us ride.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

23 December 1783 - Onondaga Village, New York State

The sun was a few hours away from setting as Connor entered the Onondaga village. As soon as he entered, he could hear the whispers following him as he and his guide made their way to the longhouse.

‘Did you see him?’

‘He’s so tall!’

‘And he’s built like a bear’

‘Why is he wearing the white man’s clothes?’

‘Is he their messenger?’

‘Do we have to leave our home?’

Men, woman and children all looked up from what they were doing to take a look at the newcomer. The men looked on warily as he walked by and the women curiously, the children giggled and whispered as he passed by them, and some of the children even dared to go close to Connor before giggling again and running away, back to the safety of their mothers.

This constant attention was embarrassing for Connor, and he hoped to get to the longhouse soon before the blush started to show on his face. He walked more quickly behind his guide, the journey to the Bear Clan village had been long and the weather cruel. As the journey was of great importance to both the clans, they had had no time for comfort and often journeyed through the night only stopping to rest the horses.

Connor had discovered that the man was named Sho’enrí:se. He had originally grown up in another clan to the south, but after his marriage he was adopted into the Onondaga Bear Clan. He knew that Connor would be marrying into the village the same way he had and already considered him a brother. Sho’enrí:se was a few years younger than Connor and, once befriended, he willingly shared all the knowledge and information that he knew. The journey to Connor’s village had been Sho’enrí:se’s first official task as the messenger of the Bear Clan and was the furthest away from his village that he had travelled. He had married a little over a year ago, and he and his new wife were expecting their first child in the next spring.

Connor found the man’s constant streams of tales about his life a comfort as they journeyed west toward the village. These were the type of people he had grown up with, who had taught him. After everything that had happened in his life he felt like, with these people in the Onondaga village, he would finally be home again.

Sho’enrí:se stopped before the open doorway of the longhouse.

“The elders are waiting inside for you. I must leave you now Ratonhnhaké:ton.” He put his hand on Connor’s shoulder in a way of parting. Connor thanked him took a deep breath and then went inside.

A wave of nostalgia hit him as the familiar scene and smells, he smiled in spite of himself. There were two people at the firepit in the middle of the longhouse who looked to be in deep discussion. No doubt these are the Clanmother and Chief, Connor thought.

He made his way toward them. At the sound of his footsteps the Clanmother and the Chief stopped their discussion, and both raised their heads to look at him.

The Chief stood to welcome him, and they clasped arms in a greeting. “Welcome to the Bear Clan brave warrior, we greet our Turtle Clan brother. Your journey must if been hard, come please rest yourself by the fire” The Chief gestured for him to sit to which Connor gratefully did. “What is your name warrior?”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, I greet the Chief and wise Clanmother of the Bear Clan” He inclined his head to the both of them and stretched out the white wampum Sho’enrí:se had given him in between him and them.

“We are pleased to see you. Are you representing your Clan?’ 

“I’m sorry to inform you that my Clan is no longer here, I am the only one left” The Clanmother and Chief looked shocked for a moment before looking at each other with understanding and grief. The Chief turned again to Connor as if to confirm what he already feared,

“They have been removed from their lands?” Connor nodded, the Chief sighed, “then it is as we feared. I am sorry for your loss” Connor nodded to the Chief in thanks before clearing his throat.

“I know it is not ideal circumstances, but I do think we can continue this promise between our Clans” The Chief looked at him curiously, but gestured for him to continue. Connor took a deep breath and plunged into what he had prepared. 

“Good Clanmother and Chief, I know that you are hoping that an alliance can be formed between our Clans. I am of the same mind so that we can strengthen the bond between us that our people may be stronger. I may be the only member of my Clan left but I can still benefit your village by helping you to retain your lands and also trade with the white men.” He took a deep breath and continued. “But I must warn you that I no longer have a normal village to return to, nor do I-” He struggled to find the words. “Live. A normal life. I could not live in your village.”

He had thought about it for the entire journey there. He was willing to enter the arrangement for the people’s benefit, in times as these, they needed to be stronger and more united. But he could not let them go forward with their decision if he had not informed them of what he couldn’t give them or what life he led. The Chief frowned.

“This is not the way Ratonhnhaké:ton. Have you forgotten the rules of our ancestors?”

Connor’s heart dropped, he had hoped that they would just accept it without arguments.

“With all respect Chief, I don’t mean to go against anything. But I have a task, a duty if you will, that I must see-through. Even if I do marry into your Clan, I still cannot stay in your village. You would be subject to greater danger than you already are.”

The Clanmother who had been watching him silently and curiously during the exchange, now smiled gently and spoke to him. 

“We know of your deeds Ratonhnhaké:ton. We know of your strong bonds with the white people and we understand that these bonds are important.to you. We wish for them to continue.” She paused and smiled a bit ruefully, “We knew your Clan had bonds and influence with the white men and we had hoped to take advantage of that, which is the reason that we desired the marriage in the first place. We are quite grateful that these bonds still live on with you, even after your village has gone. I hope you do not think less of us for it.”

“I am of the same mind, so I cannot complain”

The Clanmother smiled at him and turned to the Chief.

“Well, if not living in the village is all the opposition you have to this arrangement, then shall we put it behind us and discuss the terms of the marriage?” The Chief nodded curtly. Connor bowed in respect toward the both of them. 

“I count on your wise guidance Clanmother and Chief”

The discussion lasted until the sun had finally gone down and both sides were happy with the arrangement. They had agreed to allow Ratonhnhaké:ton to live outside of the village and continue his current lifestyle, but insisted that his wife was to go and live with him. They would be free at any time to come back to the village if circumstances allowed. Connor in return for this, would be the bridge between the Colonials and the village, and help them to retain their lands and foster trade deals. The marriage ceremony itself would be a few weeks away with only enough time for Ratonhnhaké:ton to travel to the Homestead and prepare. They would prepare quickly and travel only a few days after him.

The Chief rose to his feet and stretched.

“You must be tired after your long journey brother, come eat and rest with us.”

Connor was grateful to comply and soon joined and took comfort in the simple familiarity of the Onondaga’s ways. He laid on a borrowed straw mat in the longhouse with some of the other male tribe members. His mind raced through the changes that were soon coming to his life, he eventually fell asleep to the comforting sounds of the wind whistling through the longhouse.

The next morning, he left at dawn break. The Chief and Clanmother came to see him off, he felt regret leaving a place so familiar to him and was tempted to just give it all up and live here forever in a place he would gladly call home, but he knew that this was not possible, he knew that if he stayed the past would only repeat itself. And he would not let that happen to these people.

He took one last longing look at the village in the glistening morning lights before he turned and rode away into the forest. 

________________________________________

24 December 1783 - Onondaga Village, New York State

A pair of soft brown eyes watched as the stranger rode away from the village. The woman had returned from the fields just as the stranger was departing and watched until he had vanished out of sight. He had looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and she felt sorry for him.

She had seen his arrival to the village yesterday but had only been able to catch a glimpse of his head above the crowd before he had gone into the Longhouse, she had spoken with the other woman of the tribe and they had speculated on why he would have come.

“Oni:dä.”

A call broke her from her thoughts. The Clanmother and Chief were coming toward her and she inclined her head to them both and smiled.

“What can I do for you my Chief, Clanmother?” She asked. The old woman smiled and looked at her fondly, before schooling her features and speaking in a serious tone.

“It is your time to marry child” said the Clanmother. She gestured to the direction the stranger had gone, “The man who just left is Ratonhnhake:ton, he is to be your husband.” she gave a faint smile, “But only if you are willing.”

Oni:dä straightened up, understanding the importance of the situation.

“I will accept the marriage Clanmother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we meet Connor's wife-to-be!  
> I don't know how regularly i'll update but i definitely have the whole plot written out (i just need to write it...)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

3 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

“What do you mean you’re getting married?!”

Connor wished that he had kept this information to himself as the Davenport Homesteaders yelled out in varying degrees of shock and astonishment. He thought it would be better to tell them of the new arrival coming in the next few days, rather than her just turning up with no prior notice. So, once he arrived at the Homestead, he had immediately gone to the inn to tell them.

Now he was regretting this decision and wished he had gone home and slept then told them in the morning as he now sat in a chair in the dim light of the inn surrounded by the Homesteaders bombarded by their constant waves of questions.

“When did you this happen?”

“Is she nice?”

“Why did you agree?”

“She must be a looker aye lad? Connor you dog”

Connor ignored the last comment from Terry and turned to the women to answer their more sensible questions.

“Myriam this was arranged a few weeks ago, Corrine I couldn’t say how nice she is as I have not seen who she is, but I am sure she will be fine, and Ellen I agreed because it was the wish of mine and her clans.”

“Wait a moment.” Myriam interrupted him from the other side of the table where she had been sharping her hunting knife on the table, much to the chagrin of the innkeepers, “you don’t know what she’s like, you’ve never met and you’re marrying her because of the clan? Connor are you mad!” she looked furious at the thought. Connor believed that if his clan had been in her immediate vicinity, he was sure she would have yelled at the village elder. He didn’t know whether he should be offended or touched by this.

Norris came and put a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder and, with the other, took away the knife before she could stab it into the table. “Myriam calm down I’m sure he has a reason for doing this” He looked at Connor in pity. The gentle Frenchman had been less than thrilled about the situation, but he understood that this must be important otherwise Connor wouldn’t be doing it, he trusted the Mohawk man who he had known for years now. Godfrey nodded at Norris’s words and joined in the conversation.

“Aye lass. It’s not uncommon for them to get married in such a way. Why I’ve seen many of them and they all seem to be happy,” He sighed dramatically, “maybe I should’ve done it that way, then I could’ve been happy. At that his wife who was sitting next to him at a nearby table jabbed him in the ribs, Myriam still looked unconvinced and shook her head.

“But still…”

Connor interrupted her gently before she could get any more worked up.

“I am doing this of my own free will Myriam,” He looked around the room at all the concerned occupants and addressed all of them again, “there is no need to worry.”

“Are you really serious about this?” Big Dave asked from the corner of the room. He had been silent for the conversation so far, he understood what was going on as he had spent much time with the Mohawk people in the past and he knew a bit about their culture.

Connor nodded, Big Dave sighed and stood up.

“Alright then lad, what can we help you with? I sure that despite their concerns about your mystery bride, everyone here still wants to help with the wedding.”

The room buzzed with excitement at this reminder of a wedding, and the talk immediately became of who was coming, what food they needed, and what clothes they needed to wear. Connor was touched by their happy, albeit dubious, acceptance of his upcoming nuptials, and their desire to fully embrace his culture and how they could make it easier for him.

He assured them that there would be no need to have such a big event as the ceremony his people held would only be short. At this Prudence, Ellen, and Corrine had immediately protested that it should be a bigger event. Connor politely declined their offer, but they would not back down, and he spent the next hour arguing that he didn’t think it would be necessary, whilst they argued that the if he didn’t make it special then his bride wouldn’t feel welcomed by the community.

“She would not mind as it is not part of our culture” he had protested. The women then took a different approach to the argument.

“But Connor even if you don’t mind then think about us.” Ellen pressed. “How would we feel if we didn’t help you after all you’ve helped us?” The other women nodded in agreement.

“Please Connor” Corrine pleaded, “At least let us do it to have peace of mind.”

He finally conceded to have a feast at the inn on the evening after the ceremony, planned and cooked by the homestead ladies. This again they would not let him help with and stated that it would be his wedding gift from them. They then chattered on about breads, cakes, fruit, and all other things that they could all help make.

At this point he excused himself from the happy wedding planners and decided that if he stayed any longer then he would probably have to endure talks of what kind of flowers he wanted decorating the Homestead.

6 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

The next few days passed quickly as the homestead buzzed with activity. Once the women had heard the Onondaga bridal party would be arriving within the next few days they had gone into a flurry of activity. Connor had asked Ellen if she could help him make his ceremony clothes which she had happily agreed to. The other women had told him to not worry about anything as they would sort it out.

He was a bit worried about what ‘sort it out’ meant but he trusted them.

He had spent the next few days either sewing with Ellen or hunting wild game for the ceremony. But the day had finally arrived.

Connor woke up to the sounds of birds whistling in the trees. He stretched and rolled out of his bed and walked across the cold wooden floor to the chair in the corner of his room where his ceremonial clothes laid. He and Ellen had finished then just the previous morning and had laid them out in preparation for his ‘big day’ as Ellen had called it. He picked the outfit up and quickly changed into it before facing the mirror.

The outfit was made from smooth light brown deerskin and had embroidery on the neck and the shoulders with a few small tassels. The front also had embroidery on it which Ellen had helped him painstakingly sew on in lines across the front.

It was odd to not wear the Assassins robes that he had become used to wearing every day for many years now. None of his usual weapons were in sight apart from his tomahawk which he attached at the embroidered belt red and brown belt at his waist. His regular assassin weaponry was in the armoury in the basement. He felt exposed without his hidden blades and was itching to put them back on. He compromised by hiding a knife under clothes and turning away from the mirror, made his way downstairs and out into the crisp December air.

He was making his way to Prudence and Warren’s house through the thin covering of snow that had blanketed the Homestead overnight when he heard his name being called out from behind. Connor turned to see both Norris and Myriam making their ways towards him, and he waited for them to catch up. Norris slung his arm over his friend’s shoulder. 

“Today is the day mon ami! This is the last day you are a single man.” Connor smiled at his friend and they continued walking.

“Norris! I see you are in high spirits this morning”

“And you are not?” He gave Connor a mock serious look. “Come, are you not happy? Should I tell your bride to return home, only a sad serious man lives here” He laughed.

“I am happy” Connor protested. Myriam nudged his shoulder.

“You might want to show it on your face then, you look like a man about to face his doom”

“My doom?” He raised an eyebrow at Myriam “If I recall I had to spend the morning of your wedding trying to catch a runaway bride.”

Norris threw back his head and laughed as Myriam turned beet red at the mention of her own wedding years ago. She smacked her husband’s shoulder to get him to stop but he only laughed more.

“That was years ago! Besides I was more foolish back then, I’m wiser.” At this Norris gave her a look and then quickly dodged another swipe of her hand. “Anyway Connor, what are you doing going to Prudence and Warren’s house?” She said gesturing towards the farm that was quickly coming into view.

“Prudence has agreed to act in the place of my mother for the ceremony, to which she has agreed.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you needed people for the ceremony. Do you need us to do anything?”

“You have done enough already my friends, you already are looking after Hunter for her” At his point they spotted Warren in the field and shouted their greetings. Warren stopped and waved to call them over. Norris waved back and the three of them headed in his direction. By the time they had got to him he had put down his tools and wiped the sweat off his brow. He grinned at the Mohawk.

“How are you feeling Connor? Nervous?”

“I am fine Warren. How have you been?”

“Alright. Hunter has been a bit under the weather, but he is all better now.” He turned around and beckoned for them to follow him as he made his why towards the house. He looked over his shoulder back at Connor. “Prudence is inside picking an outfit, she has been fretting over what would be appropriate.”

“She does not need to do that her presence is appreciated as it is.”

“Try telling that to Prudence.” He said as they entered the house. Prudence was coming down the stairs and she smiled at the sight of them.

“Connor! Do you think this dress will be alright?” She turned around so they could see her simple red dress. Connor smiled.

“You look wonderful Prudence.” He was interrupted by little footsteps coming from the kitchen and Hunter appeared with his wild black hair. The five-year-old beamed as he saw the people in the hallway and barrelled towards Myriam and Norris.

“Aunt Myriam!” He cried as hugged her tightly. “What are you doing here?” She swung him in the air, and he squealed in delight.

“I’ve come to take you out for the day little one. Want to become a real hunter, little hunter?” The child nodded enthusiastically. His mother looked a bit more than just worried at the thought.

“You won’t be touching any of the hunting guns, will he Myriam?” She asked pointedly. Myriam looked a bit guilty like that had completely been her intention before answering.

“Of course not Prudence, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Prudence looked even more worried and Myriam quickly ushered Norris and Hunter out of the door before she could ask any more questions on her and Hunter’s plans for the day.

“Bonne chance on the wedding Connor!” Norris called out before he was disappeared out of the door. Myriam nudged Connor’s shoulder as she passed by him.

“Don’t scare away your bride with that angry look of yours.” She smirked, “Also, if you try running away from your wedding, I’ll return the favour and chase you down.”

“I would not dream of it.”

Norris and Myriam waved at him and disappeared down the well beaten road with Hunter between them holding his hands. Connor turned back to Prudence who was looking worriedly where they had been.

“I am not certain she has listened, I should have sent him with Diana and her children instead.” She fretted. Warren put his hand on her shoulders.

“They will be fine Prudence, Myriam is one of the best hunters I’ve ever seen, and besides, Norris will keep them out of trouble.” Connor could see that she wasn’t comforted, and he interrupted by offering his arm to Prudence.

“It is nearly time, are you ready?” She nodded and took his outstretched arm. They said their goodbyes to Warren and made their way back to the mansion.

They sat on the mats that Connor had prepared and spoke quietly together. They spent a few hours waiting and Prudence told him stories of her life to pass the time. He was listening to Prudence about how she and Warren met when he heard footsteps and quiet conversations coming from the road.

Suddenly he felt all the nervousness that the others had mentioned earlier hit him like a wave. His hands felt clammy even in the cold air and he could feel a bead of sweat drip down his neck. Unknown to him Prudence saw his shaking hands and gave him a soft look before standing up beside him.

He was jolted out of his state of panic as Prudence’s hand rested on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“It will be okay Connor.” She reassured him. He nodded and gulped, not quite trusting himself to speak. She smiled again and patted his shoulder before they both turned towards the road as the group came into sight.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

6 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

As the group came in view their quiet conversations halted at the sight of Connor and Prudence. Both parties were silent as the man followed by three Onondaga women made their approach, the snow crunching beneath their moccasins.

As they approached, Connor noticed that they each carried a basket each filled to the brim. However he soon forgot the baskets, and failed to take much notice of the rest of the group, as his eyes were drawn to focus on the woman stood in the center of the little group.

She wore a similar outfit to the one he was wearing but hers was white that reached to the floor. Instead of the embroidery that adorned his outfit, hers was a lot simpler with only a few strings of beading along the shoulders woven into the tassels that were already there. She had long dark brown hair that was tied neatly into two plaits that laid at either side of her face, and a beaded headdress was carefully placed on top and a beaded necklace on her neck. As they came drew closer, she looked up and her eyes meet his gaze. He gulped.

This was his bride.

The man reached into the satchel he was carrying and brought out two mats, placing one in front of the mat Connor had put out in the morning and placing the other adjacent. He then gestured for both parties to sit.

Both parties then wordlessly sat on the mats facing each other. Prudence sat in the center of one mat with Connor at one side, and the old Onondaga woman sat in the center of the other with both the bride and the third woman at her sides. The man then turned to Connor.

“I am the Council chief presiding over this sacred ceremony. We have been informed of your circumstance, that due to the lack of clan woman you have had need to ask for the help of an outsider for the ceremony. Is this she?” Connor nodded.

“This is my good friend Prudence. She is trusted and well-respected within this place. She will be representing my mother in the ceremony and I will translate it for her so she will be able to participate.” The council chief nodded and began the ceremony turning to address the Onondaga woman in the center.

“Woman what is the name of this daughter, and what of the Clan she is from?”

“Oni:dä from the Bear Clan of the Onondaga.”

“Is this daughter capable of filling the responsibility of marriage and be able to help guide the future of the Clan as a wife and mother?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have proof of this claim?”

“Yes”

The three Onondaga woman then passed Prudence the three baskets that they had been carrying. Prudence took them with grace and looked inside just as she and Connor had practiced the day before. The baskets were filled with cakes of bread, corn, and beading all gathered or made by the bride. Prudence nodded to the Council Chief and he continued with the questions. 

“If hard times come will you open up your home to this young daughter and her husband if they ever need it?”

The woman answered affirmative once again. The Council Chief then turned to Prudence and repeated the same questions, but in relation to a son rather than the daughter.

Connor once again repeated the questions to Prudence in English. She managed to respond haltingly to each one in their language as Connor gave her the words for her to repeat after each question. This time Prudence and Connor presented the skins and meat that he had hunted and prepared over the past few days, to which the older Onondaga woman accepted gracefully.

The Council Chief then gestured to the Connor and Oni:dä to move to the center of their mats.

Prudence moved with some relief to the corner of the mat and Connor took his place at the front facing his bride. This time they didn’t face each other but together faced the Council Chief.

The Council Chief then addressed Oni:dä first.

“Are you prepared to be a wife to this man? To care for him when illness strikes and care for him and any children that the Creator bless you with?”

“Yes”

The voice was soft and gentle as each question was answered, and Connor realised that this was the first time that he had heard the voice of the woman he was marrying and without realising he leaned in and listened more closely to the sound.

The council chief continued listing of the responsibilities, to which Oni:dä responded affirmative at the end of each. Then in term he turned to Connor and responded with the same questions to which Connor answered the same. The Onondaga man then stood and again placed his hands on each of the couple’s shoulders.

“May the Creator bless you as you travel life together.”

The two parties then arose, and Prudence said her goodbyes before heading in the direction of the Mine to collect Hunter. Connor and his new wife then walked the Onondaga group to the edge of the Homestead’s north-west boundary line. Then, saying their goodbyes they left, Connor and Oni:dä stood and watched them until they disappeared out of sight. Connor turned to the woman at his side.

“The people of this village are eager to meet you, they have prepared a feast to celebrate your arrival if you are willing to come.”

“They are your new clan?” was the soft questioning reply.

“In a way, yes.”

“Then we are family. I will gladly great them.”

“They are at the Inn” He pointed in the direction and they both began walking through the forest on the worn paths. They spoke only a little on the way back, Oni:dä would ask questions about the Homestead inhabitants and Conor willingly answered. It was nice to talk to someone once again in his native tongue and they passed the time like this until the Inn came into view.

The Homestead children were looking down the streets and waved to the new couple as they came into view. They ran up to greet them and gathered around chattering to Connor about what the feast looked like, he smiled at their antics and guided Oni:dä down towards where the tables had been laid out near Terry and Godfrey’s bowling lawn.

Corrine and Prudence were by the tables putting the final dishes of food on the table whilst also directing Warren, Oliver, Father Timothy, and Doctor White where to put the other food dishes. Ellen and Myriam were talking together with Norris and Big Dave, and the others were gathering their children ready to begin. All of them had prepared their best outfits and he could tell they were all determined to make a good impression to the new arrival.

Catherine and Diana came over first to welcome them with the children in tow.

“We’ve be so excited to see you my dear! I hope your journey wasn’t long.”

“What’s your name love?

Oni:dä looked astonished and Connor quickly stepped in and translated the questions for her. Then he turned back to Diana and Catherine.

“Oni:dä doesn’t speak English very much so I will be translating for her.”

“Ah! So her name is Ohni- Owne-.”

“Oni:dä.”

“Ownida?”

“Oni:dä.” He repeated with emphasis on the syllables. Catherine laughed and, to Connor’s great astonishment, she hugged the equally surprised Onondaga bride.

“Oh my, I’m sorry my dear it’s going to take me a while to get that right.”

This broke tension from the area and the other Homesteaders laughed and came closer to say hello and introduce themselves.

Oni:dä just nodded and allowed Connor to lead her to the food. The rest of the evening went smoothly. The Homesteaders chatted among themselves and Connor sat by his new wife translating any questions and conversations directed at her, to which she responded in broken English.

The sun had long gone down by the time Connor decided it was time to retire and told the Homesteaders they would be leaving. Godfrey and Norris gave him a look at this statement which he didn’t understand and just decided to ignore them. They said their thanks and goodbyes and made their way up to the Manor. They walked in silence, each to their own thoughts, making their way through the dark crisp area until they walked past the Church when Oni:dä spoke.

“They are all from different places.” It was a statement rather than a question.

He nodded, “Yes, they have found a new home in this place.”

“They are happy here aren’t they?” She questioned. He looked up at the sky and smiled.

“They have come from tough backgrounds they deserve some happiness.”

“They all love you very much Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

Connor glanced over at Oni:dä with some astonishment at this statement, but she was looking at the path ahead as she continued,

“I can see that they really have really become your family, your new Clan.” She hesitated, “If I could, I would like to get to know them better.”

He smiled at her as they walked up the steps of the Manor.

“I will show you around tomorrow when you’ve had enough rest, you can greet them properly then.” He opened the door to the Manor and gestured for her to come inside. “It’s been a long day and I’ll show you to your room.”

He made his way up the stairs with Oni:dä following after him and gestured for her to walk in. She walked into the room and looked around for moment without saying a word. He stood by the doorway and watched as she took in the surroundings. He wished he could have got her room prepared in advance, but it still would take a week or so to make a new bed.

“I’ll get another room prepared for you later so you can have your own space.” She looked at him with some confusion at this statement.

“It’s fine, I don’t require two rooms.”

“I mean for a bedroom.”

“Isn’t this our bedroom?”

He hesitated “Well, yes. But are you sure? You will be sharing with me.”

“We are married, I assumed I would be staying with my husband.” She looked self-conscious now, “But if you don’t want to, I will be fine staying in another room-”

“No I don’t mind, I just assumed you wouldn’t want to…”

His voice trailed off and an awkward silence took its place in the air between them. When he heard a knock at the door, he gladly excused himself and quickly made his way downstairs. He opened the door to reveal an exhausted looking Irishman.

“Duncan, what brings you here at this late hour?”

“I’m sorry Connor but Dobby sent me to send you some information about some of the new recruits.”

“Alright, go to the north by the ridge and I’ll meet you there.” Duncan nodded and disappeared into the night. Connor swiftly went back to his room and retrieved him assassin coat and weaponry. Oni:dä watched him quizzically as he strapped the belt around and slung his quiver over his shoulder. He turned back to her.

“There is something I need to do, please rest first.” He told her gently.

She looked startled for a moment, and he thought her saw a look of confusion and hurt pass over her face, but when he looked at her again it was gone. He picked up his bow and quickly left the Manor leaving the new bride behind.

After speaking to the Duncan for an hour or so and giving him some instructions to relay to Dobby, he made his way on his usual rounds through the Homestead. It had become a habit after outsiders kept coming in and hurting the Homesteaders, like the army coming for big Dave and Ellen’s abusive husband. He sometimes found people in the forest who were either trying to poach or steal, to which he threatened to get of the land before he threw them out, but after the first few it was rare that he saw anyone.

The patrol was usually a time to clear his head and to have some peace from the sometimes-difficult balance of running a, now fully functioning, town and an ever-growing Assassin Brotherhood.

It gave him time to think, and this time all he could think of was his own brand-new status of Husband.

After enduring his own wedding, he could finally feel some pity towards Myriam. He now fully understood why she ran away from her wedding almost cancelling the whole affair.

He had been tempted to just run from his own wedding. The only thing that had kept him rooted in place was his promise to his people and hers, and the humiliation both parties would receive if he had just bolted.

How could he be a husband to this woman?

He’d spent so long on the front-lines of war being a solider and assassin that he had partially forgotten how to be with people as a group, let alone a family unit. The Homestead had helped him overcome some of his social ineptness, but he still was wary around people and was always on guard for danger in any form.

He had been raised from his youth into adulthood to be a warrior and stay in the shadows. Kill those who needed killing for the greater good and keeping the Templars from destroying people’s freedom. Brought up to do what was right who fights for the weak, not a husband, let alone a good one.

As he jumped from each tree, free-running through the forest, he thought again about the startled look that had passed over her face. When he had said he that she could sleep first she had looked confused for a moment and he wondered why. Connor shook his head as if to free the thoughts from his mind and focused on the task ahead of him.

It had been some time since night had fallen and the moon shone high in the sky, it’s bright light reflecting on the gently rippling water of the river below and lighting the gaps between the trees as he made his way past the mine Norris worked in during the day. Connor silently leapt over the river and made his way up the hill.

Once again in the trees, he passed Ellen’s house and ran by the Inn. The other homesteaders were asleep by now and only remnants of the feast remained by the inn, the banners fluttering in the night breeze. This scene once again reminded him of the wedding from earlier and he recalled once again of his new wife’s expression from when he left. Which he again pondered as he passed the Manor again on his way towards the docks.

He wondered if it could be the fact that said he had something to do. It’s not like he was a normal Clan member, he had a duty to the Brotherhood and to the people of the homestead to keep them safe. If he was a normal clan member, he would have probably stayed in a new longhouse together for their wedding night.

Oh.

Suddenly Norris and Godfrey’s expressions at the party made sense.

Losing his footing, Connor stumbled landing on the next branch, he thrust his arms out in front grabbing the branches to keep himself from falling from the tree. Connor pulled himself up to a safe position gripping onto the adjourning branch for support and stood for a moment breathing heavily. Once he caught his breath he groaned and sank down into sitting position on the thick branch underneath him as realisation struck him.

“You fool” he muttered to himself his face falling into his hands.

It was her wedding night. That’s why she had been so confused and hurt. He had insulted her in possibly the worst way imaginable by accidentally rejecting her.

He needed to go back and apologise.

Connor turned in the tree and once again started running back the way he had come. Faster this time, he quickly bounded from each tree until the Manor came back into view, I single light coming from the bedroom . He quickly made his way inside the front door into the dark corridor and quietly up the stairs to where the light was coming from. His heart thumped against his chest rapidly, and he quickly tried to think of ways he could say sorry to her as he made his way up the stairs. He entered the bedroom and looked at the bed the source of the light was from a small stub of a single candle lit on the small table at the side of the bed.

He could see her sleeping silhouette from the faint light that the candle had emitted. As he approached the bed, he noticed that she was lying on top of the usual furs in her clothes from the wedding, as if she had fallen asleep when waiting for him.

Once again Connor cursed his stupidity and picked up the woven blanket that usually laid over the chair and gently placed it over her. He figured the least he could do at this point would be to help her feel more comfortable in her sleep.

Oni:dä shifted in her sleep as the blanket touched her and Connor froze. She turned over on her back and exhaled gently through her nose as she settled into a more comfortable position. Connor waited until she stopped moving and slowly placed on the rest of the blanket, carefully covering her so she wouldn't be cold.

He would have to apologise in the morning.

Taking off his coat he made his way over to the chair and laid the assassin coat and weapons over it. Taking only the small hunting knife, he walked over to the bed and placed it underneath where he could reach it quickly if the need arose. Connor took his boots off and blew out the flame on the candle before carefully lying underneath the furs on the bed at the other side of the bed as not to disturb the sleeping woman.

He laid for a while in the dark staring into the blank space before drifting off to sleep.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Poor Connor, he's trying his best. Sorry if this chapter was a bit boring, i was trying to make the ceremony as accurate as i could without having it too long. Remember to leave some kudos and reviews if you liked it :)

Also (if anybody was curious) the inspiration for the wedding ceremony and outfits came from here: https://owlcation.com/social-sciences/A-Mohawk-Valentine-Sacred-Marriage and the food baskets and fur trade came from a book i found about Iroquois wedding ceremonies in the late 1700's)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

7 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

Oni:dä woke up early the next morning. The sun hadn’t come up yet and the outside world was silent as the birds were still asleep in their nests. She rubbed that sleep from her eyes and sat up with a yawn and felt a weight of something fall off of her.

Looking down she realised two things. One was that she was still in her ceremonial wedding clothing from the previous day, and two, that somebody had put a blanket on her during the night. It was at this point she came to the mortifying conclusion that she had fallen asleep waiting for her husband on her wedding night.

She wasn’t sure if she should apologise to him for falling asleep or just pretending that none of this had ever happened.

Oni:dä put a hand over her eyes and sighed.

A gentle exhaling of breath close to her made her jump and she quickly got out of the bed her heart beating rapidly. Looking over at the other side the bed she saw Ratonhnhaké:ton sleeping there.

Her new husband must have returned at some point in the night as he was in deep sleep on the edge of the bed. The only sign he was alive came from the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest. He must have come back late in the night because she’d never noticed him coming in or covering her the blanket. He also must have blown out that candle, which was little more than a stub by now.

She picked up the blanket that she had been covered with and folded it placing it gently back on the bed before walking over to a basket on the floor where her usual buckskin fringed clothes had been kept during her ten day journey here, and began to dress for the day.

After fitting on her beaded belt and re-braiding her hair into a singular plait she silently made her way around the room, picking up Ratonhnhaké:ton’s ceremonial outfit and her own from the day before and quietly left the room so as not to disturb the obviously tired man.

She walked through the quiet and empty corridor of the Manor, comparing it to the village she had grown up in. If she had been back in her village as was usual with marriages, she would’ve awoken with the others, everyone bustling about getting ready for the day and then chattering with the other woman she would’ve made her way to the cooking pits to make the morning meal, her husband already out with the other men to hunt for game. But instead she was living in this large house in a place she didn’t know, with a lifestyle she was unfamiliar with, with the only other occupant, and only person she could properly communicate with, still asleep.

She couldn’t complain though.

She hadn’t expected it to be a normal Iroquois marriage when she had first seen him that time in the village. No other Iroquois wore the clothing of the colonials as he did, usually those who had grown up in colonial villages completely changed their own style to match that of the white men.

But Ratonhnhaké:ton’s clothing had aspects of his original culture carefully worn and placed on his outfit, such as his buckskin boots, the woven bands and feathers on the arms of his coat, and the feathers that adorned his long mohawk styled hair.

Walking out of the front door she looked around. The sun was beginning to show through the trees, casting a faint light on the ground. Closing the front door behind her she made her way towards the stables, which she had been informed by the Council chief yesterday as they walked to the house, was yet another part of her husband’s property.

No. Her new husband was not a normal Iroquois man.

She knew he was different, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when the Clan Mother told her that she would not be living in the village as was tradition after her marriage, but rather be moving to a new village where her husband was living.

Oni:dä was however, surprised when she walked into the area and was faced with the tall buildings of the colonials surrounding the area as she had been informed she would now be living in one of these such homes, and when Ratonhnhaké:ton had shown her where they would be living she had been speechless as she looked up at the large brick and mortar building.

And then again, she had been reminded of the fact he was different when he had suggested separate rooms and then left quickly without explanation the night before.

Oni:dä winced at the memory.

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t been hurt by this incident, but she was mostly concerned that the incident showed little hope for a good start to their marriage. But she had waited for him, as was expected of her as a bride, but she had still expected nothing and had promptly fallen asleep by accident.

Oni:dä shook her head. It wouldn’t do any good thinking about what had happened.

Making her way down the hill, Oni:dä stopped at the stables to pick up a bucket before walking behind them in the direction of to the stream that she had seen behind it yesterday. Putting down the bucket at her side, she bent down she dipped her hands into the water and washed her face gasping as the icy water contacted with her warm skin. Turning to pick up the bundle of ceremonial clothes she had carried down with her, she carefully laid them out on the bankside, half into the icy water and began to clean them, beginning to gently rub the dirt off of her husband’s ceremonial outfit before turning to wash her own. Laying them on the rocks so they didn’t get dirty in the mud surrounded the bank Oni:dä picked up the bucket.

She dipped the wooden bucket into the icy stream and watched as it filled up thinking about what her life would be like now in this place. Oni:dä was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice someone approach from behind and stop behind her.

“If you need water, I can get it for you.” The voice came from close behind her.

Letting go of the bucket she whirled around with a gasp to find Ratonhnhaké:ton looking back at her, he was dressed up once again in the colonial style robes she had seen that time in the village. She looked up at him for a moment before noticing that the discarded bucket was now floating gently downstream. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her.

“Are you okay Oni:dä?” He asked, concerned at her reaction.

“The bucket,” Was all that she said pointing towards the forgotten object.

He turned to where she was pointing and quickly jogged downstream and retrieved the bucket before walking back to her. Oni:dä was grateful for the chance to compose herself before he came back. She had forgotten how tall he really was and seeing him stood by her as she was crouched down had reminded her rather forcefully of his height.

This was twice now in one morning that she had been scared by her husband. she had to stop this. It wouldn’t do if she gaped at her husband every time he did something she wasn’t used to.

“Good morning husband,” she said taking the bucket from him as he approached, before turning back to the stream to refill it calmly as if nothing had happened. “What did you come here for?”

“Good morning wife,” he dutifully replied, “I was wondering where you were. You weren’t in the Manor when I woke up.”

“Did you want me to wait for you to wake up?” She asked wondering if she’d done something wrong by leaving before he woke up.

“No, I just wanted to apologise.” It was now Oni:dä’s turn to look up at his obvious discomfort in confusion as he took a deep breath in and continued. “I’m sorry if you are offended.”

She couldn’t figure out what he was apologising for. The ceremony had gone well and there was no quarrel between them. What reason did she have to be offended?

“Is there something you needed to apologise for?” She responded with some confusion. He looked surprised at her reply for a moment before it quickly changed back into embarrassment as he seemed to realise he needed to explain the situation more.

“Oh. Well-” He seemed to be struggling to find the words that he wanted to say and was unconsciously fiddling with a frayed edge on his coat sleeve. “It’s just- Yesterday, last night when I came back, I saw that you waited.”

Ah. So that’s what he was speaking about.

It was the very incident that she herself was trying to forget, and had managed to forget, until he had brought it up. She blushed in spite of herself and found a sudden interest with the pebbles lodged in the mud by the stream’s edge, not looking him in the eye.

“It’s not your fault, it is mine for not waiting up properly.” She said trying to make her own apology back, but he persisted with his own.

“No the fault lies with me, I forgot to tell you that I scout the area at night. I should’ve told you this so you didn’t expect anything-” Ratonhnhaké:ton stopped himself abruptly and his cheeks turned the same shade as she knew hers already were at this point.

“I’ll leave a candle lit for you when you return again.” Oni:dä said gently to show she was not offended.

“You don’t need to if it inconveniences you.” He was quick to reply.

“I want to.” She said forcefully, he looked at her in surprise and she looked away with even more embarrassment than before.

“If it’s not too much of an inconvenience…” Ratonhnhaké:ton trailed off. They both stood there awkwardly silent for a moment both looking anywhere but in the direction of the other.

They stayed like this for a time before Oni:dä spoke. She wasn’t going to start her new life with being this uncomfortable with her new husband. Summoning what little courage she had left she turned back to him.

“Could you possibly carry the bucket back for me?” She asked quietly holding out the now filled bucket, “I can’t carry the bucket and the clothes.”

He nodded mutely and took the bucket from her and waited for her to pick up the clothes before walking together back to the Manor.

“You didn’t see much of the people or the land yesterday,” he said breaking the silence as they put both the clothes and bucket down in the kitchen, “I promised I’d show you them today if you still want too?”

She smiled up at him.

“I would like that.”

\-----------------------------------

After they had eaten together, with little conversation between the two, they made their way down towards the little colonial village. Walking down the beaten track they once again stayed silent each leaving the other to their own thoughts.

Oni:dä hadn’t really met the villagers properly yesterday as she had stayed by Ratonhnhaké:ton’s side for most of the feast as he translated for her, also they had been hesitant to intrude on their friend and his new bride. Some of them had come and greeted her but she already couldn’t remember their names.

The church came into view as they rounded the corner, and Oni:dä noticed the bright flag flying on the steeple flowing in the winter breeze.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, you may ask me anything.”

“I have never seen this type of flag before” She asked pointing to the colourful flag, “What does it mean?”

He had turned to look at her when she had asked the question, but was now looking fondly at the flag at her question.

“One of the villagers made it for us for helping her.” He said as if remembering the time fondly. “It’s this land’s flag representing our strength and unity as a people.”

“So it is your village’s symbol?” Oni:dä said looking back at the flag with a new perspective. She knew already that the villagers were close to Ratonhnhaké:ton, but she hadn’t realised what a close knit group they were together. Yesterday when she had asked him about them, he had said that they had all had troubled pasts but had all come together, she hoped to one day become close enough to the people of this odd village who had such a close bond.

Walking to the bridge they saw a man in the distance who waved at them with his fishing rod and jogged towards them.

“Good morn’ lad! And t’ young lassie.” He added in his thick accent with a tip of his wide brimmed hat towards Oni:dä.

Oni:dä nodded mutely back at him completely unable to understand a word he said apart from the ‘good’ part. She had been taught some English by the Clan Mother for when they went out to trade. But she had never once before heard an accent like the one this ginger haired man had.

“Good morning Terry,” Ratonhnhaké:ton said in fluent English seemingly without noticing the Terry’s thick accent, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“But the day is a grand’n for some good fishing lad.“

The sparked an argument that Oni:dä might not have understood, but she could tell they had it many times before. She stood watching the two of them talk only catching a few words that she could understand, until the argument finally winded down. The man, named Terry, seemed to have conceded and reeled in his fishing rod.

“Well I’ll be hoping ta meet ye again soon lassie” Terry said looking back at Oni:dä, she looked at him blankly, and Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke up again filling in the gap she had left in the conversation.

“I suggest you return to your work before Godfrey finds you here.”

“Aye, I’m goin’” Terry said waving his hand dismissively at the younger native man before he jogged back over the bridge and disappeared round the bend that led towards the mill by the river.

Ratonhnhake;ton shook his head with a sigh.

“Forgive Terry, he is a good worker and a good man,” He said swapping back into his native tongue, “But all he has in his head is fishing at the moment. I’ll introduce you another time when he isn’t supposed to be working.”

“I am fine with that,” Oni:dä said looking the way Terry had just disappeared, “I’m sorry if I offended your friend back there, I don’t know much of their language.” She admitted glumly.

“You needn’t worry too much with Terry,” Ratonhnhaké:ton said gently, “Or Godfrey for that matter, they don’t get offended by anyone but each other that easily.”

Oni:dä nodded at him, but still a bit subdued over her failed first greeting of her new family. He must have noticed the look on her face because he spoke again.

“It takes a while to get used to their accents,” he continued with a rueful smile, “I couldn’t understand them either when I first met the both of them. I still can’t understand them sometimes.”

Oni:dä laughed at his confession, and a gentle smile passed over his face. They began again down the dirt road, this time in a more comfortable way as she asked him questions about what he and Terry had been talking about. The which he responded to each of her questions, occasionally explaining the dialect.

As they continued in this comfortable manner, Oni:dä had hope, that with time, they could become close companions and that their future in this new village would be alright.

\------------------------------------------  
I'm back! Sorry for the absence, life got in the way. Hope you liked this chapter that follows Oni:dä and her thoughts about the new situation and marriage. Remember to leave comments! I love reading them! 

Fact of the day: In Iroquois weddings when a couple gets married the man is adopted into the wife's clan and becomes one of them. He also usually moves in with them. Which is why in this story it was seen as strange that Oni:dä came to live in Connor's 'village' (the homestead) instead of them both returning to her village.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
11 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State 

Connor trudged through the deep snow that had blanketed the floor of the forest on his way back from his usual scouting route.

He had completed his rounds sooner than expected, and had decided to return to the Manor in the hope that he would return before his wife had gone to bed. Connor was hoping for the opportunity to talk to Oni:dä, as he had not had much free time after the day he had taken her to see the other residents.

Within the few days they had been married they had spent little time together. Whether it was with the Creed or at the Homestead Connor was constantly busy. At the Homestead, he had business to deal with and trade routes to create, agreeing to deliver and supply the items and food that Homestead residents produced to a variety of places around the Frontier. On top of that he often got waylaid by some small task that the Homestead residents had asked him to do. 

Or having to stop Terry and Godfrey fighting.

Again.

On top of that Mister Faulkner had come into dock three days earlier with designs of a new trade route and deal with the Quebec harbour for shipping goods, which could be beneficial for both the trade in supplies and gain valuable metals for Assassin weaponry that they couldn’t get from Norris’ mine. He also had come up with some new modifications for the Aquila that he wanted approving so he could fit them immediately.

Because of this Connor had seen Oni:dä only a few times in the past four days. He saw her on a night after he returned but she was always asleep by then, but true to her word she still left a lit candle for him every night for which he was grateful.

It stopped him from walking into the chair in their room, which he would faithfully walk into every night no matter how much he thought he knew where it was.

By the time Connor woke up in the morning she was always already gone. The only time he saw her was in brief moments whilst he went about his daily tasks, he would occasionally catch a glimpse of her in the distance busy doing some task or another. Sometimes she was doing washing in the river, and other times he saw her walking down the lane towards Prudence and Warren’s farm with a woven basket with food in.

The business with Mister Faulkner had been finalised just that evening, giving Connor the time to scout earlier than usual. His only unfinished task were the trade route papers that he needed to sign, however he could do those tomorrow and then deliver them to Norris first thing.

Walking through the snow he nodded his head at his new plan. After this he would be able to spend some more time with Oni:dä and see if she was adjusting well to her new life, and if there was anything he could do to make her more comfortable.

The dry crunch of fallen leaves broke him from his thoughts and he was immediately on his guard. He showed no outward signs that he knew he was being followed but walked normally until he knew he was out of sight. He made his way silently up into the trees blending in with the snow-covered branches, surveying the area for any signs of movement. After a few moments he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye as the figure ran quickly from behind a tree into some bushes.

After activating his hidden blade, Connor slowly made his way across the branches until he was above the cluster of bushes that the person was hiding in and waited. The person following him finally noticed that their quarry was missing and slowly came out from behind the bushes, looking around warily.

It was a man, older than Connor, wearing a black outer coat with a wide brimmed black hat hanging loosely on his back and a rosary swing from his wrist. As he soon as he realised that he had lost Connor, he ran his hand through his greying hair and began to curse profusely, his Irish accent reaching up to Connor in the trees above. 

Connor smiled and retracted his hidden blade as he realised who it was. Positioning himself on the branch he waited for a moment and then silently launched himself from the tree. He landed on the man below, breaking his own fall but forcefully pushing the cursing man to the floor. The string of curses stopped as the air was pushed out of his lungs, and the man now gasped for air as he hit the snowy floor.

“You are getting slow Duncan,” Connor said as he let go of the man reached out his hand to help pull him up, the man on the floor took it with a grin.

“I am not, I just know you won’t hurt me.” He brushed the snow off the back of his coat as Connor looked at him with faint look of amusement on his face. “I knew you were there all along.”

Connor raised one eyebrow and looked at the man skeptically. 

“I did!” The Irish man protested trying to unsquash his hat. 

“You did not know I was there.” Connor said with a hint of amusement.

“I most certainly did!”

“Then why the cursing Duncan?”

Duncan laughed and threw his hands up in the air at this last question.

“You did not see me coming.” He stated. Duncan laughed and threw his hands up in the air.

“Fine! I didn’t see you coming, are you happy now oh great Assassin?” Connor’s lips twitched into a faint smirk at Duncan’s confession and he turned, and once again began walking through the forest back towards the Manor, this time leaving enough room for the Irish man to walk beside him. Duncan jogged to keep up with him.

“One day I’ll beat you.” Connor’s faint smirk had become a full-fledged one at this point and he turned his head to glance at Duncan. 

“You are free to try.” Duncan scoffed at the challenge and Connor continued. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought I sent you with instructions for Dobby not a week ago”

“I did go to Dobby, she’s in Boston at the moment. She told me to come and get you”

Connor was immediately on his guard. Why was Dobby in Boston? She was usually overseeing the Assassin faction in New York.

“Why is she in Boston?” He asked carefully. The Manor was in sight now and they moved towards it, out of the forest and onto the road.

“She was following a lead from New York to Boston, we told her we could handle it, if she’d just tell us what it was, but she insisted on staying saying that she ‘didn’t trust someone else to-‘“

“Pardon me Duncan” Connor interrupted becoming more worried by the second, “what was the lead about?” Duncan shrugged his shoulders.

“She wouldn’t tell us. She did say that you should probably hurry though”

Connor held back a groan. “Maybe you should have mentioned that early instead of wasting your time trying to sneak up on me?”

“It was too good of an opportunity to miss.” Was Duncan’s only excuse with a grin that showed his unrepentant state. Connor sighed and walked towards the Manor door.

“We will leave immediately, get the horses ready.” He instructed, Duncan nodded, the grin falling from his face, and they spilt Duncan going towards the stable as Connor entered the Manor. 

Making his way into the study, he quickly signed the papers for the trade route that he hoped Norris would find later. He then made quickly went up the stairs and down the corridor to where the bedroom door was still ajar, it’s dim light shining into the corridor.

He quietly entered the dimly lit room and made his way across the creaking floorboards, being careful not to disturb his wife who was already asleep on the bed. 

After gathering a few more things for his journey he walked towards the bed. Stopping for a moment beside it he pulled the woven blanket more around his wife shoulders, smiling as she sunk deeper into it with a soft breath, he then turned to the candle she left lit for him in the night-time and gently blew it out.

The room fell into a comforting darkness and Connor left quietly. Duncan was in the stables holding two horses that he had already saddled up.

The room fell into a comforting darkness and Connor left quietly. Duncan was in the stables holding two horses that he had already saddled up.

“Are you ready?” he asked as Connor approached. Connor nodded and mounted the horse that Duncan held out to him.

He took one last look at the Manor and then rode off to Boston.

________________________________________  
12 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State 

Going to bed without her husband had become a normal occurrence at this point for Oni:dä, as he had informed her that he needed to scout the area in the night-time.

However, it was uncommon for him to be absent when she woke up.

Waking up she knew instinctively that she was alone in the room, looking over to the other side of the bed confirmed it. The place where Ratonhnhaké:ton usually slept, tucked on the opposite edge of the bed, was empty. Turning to the candle she saw that there was still half of it there, meaning he must have returned during the night at least once. 

Oni:dä stretched and got out of the bed and walking over to wear her daytime clothes were and got dressed noticing that his clothes were already gone. Furrowing her brow Oni:dä looked out the window to see the slow gentle snowfall coming from the dull grey clouds, it was still early in the morning. She thought she might have overslept since he was gone already, but as it was still the usual time she woke up so she supposed that wasn’t the case.

He was probably busy with more business today with the man who came on the ship a few days ago, she thought, satisfied with her logical conclusion Oni:dä went about her day thinking nothing more of it.

________________________________________  
13 January 1784 – Boston, Massachusetts State 

It was late by the time that Connor and Duncan rode into Boston. The sun had already gone down and the only light came from the candles that lit people’s homes throughout the city. Both themselves and their horses were splattered with mud from the hard ride through the muddy frontier.

On their journey Connor had tried to ask Duncan more questions about the situation but to no avail. Dobby had really kept the information to herself this time much to Connor’s chagrin. He would definitely have to speak to her about the importance of sharing information when he saw her.

The Inn where they were supposed to rendezvous came into sight and they directed their horses towards it, avoiding the staggering drunkards that were coming from the building. Connor jumped down from his horse and led it to the post by the front where he tied it carefully. The raucous laughter could be heard from the streets and as Connor opened the door he winced as it got even louder.

Squinting in the bright light he looked around the room for Dobby’s familiar hood over the sea of rowdy patrons. He spotted her in the back of the room past the fireplace with her hood over her face and her feet on the table in front of her, looking for all the world like she was just another patron who had had a little too much to drink.

But Connor could see the glint of her eyes from under the hood as she carefully watched the crowd and her eyes met his and she nodded slightly in greeting. He made his way though the people towards her with Duncan in tow avoiding the sloshing beer as yet another bawdy drinking song began.

Connor wrinkled his nose as the smell of split beer and smoke filled his lungs. He didn’t like inn’s and avoided them when he could, the stench of alcohol was sickening to him and reminded him of times he would rather forget. Dobby moved her feet back onto the floor as Connor approached the table and she pulled out a seat for him

“Nice to see you again Connor. How have you been?” Dobby greeted as he reached her and sat down.

“I would have been better if I knew what the situation was about.” He said with some mild irritation as the drinking song got louder. “Why all the secrecy?”

“I didn’t want it to be overheard by mistake.” Dobby said pushing a tankard in his direction which he ignored. “It’s something to do with the Order.”

Connor’s irritation subsided away as fresh wave of wariness took its place. Keeping his posture relaxed he flicked his eyes around the room to make sure no one was listening too closely. He saw no one as all the other patrons were all looking towards the bar as yet another barrel was brought out of the cellar. They all cheered as it was opened and some of them turned to raise their tankards at Dobby in thanks, Connor raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“I guess you are the reason why everyone is so…jolly tonight then.” He questioned, Dobby shrugged and inclined her tankard to a grateful patron before taking another swig.

“I thought having a distracting atmosphere would be better so we can’t be overheard.”

Connor nodded. As much as he didn’t like it, he could see the point in having such a rowdy place as a cover for important conversations. It was one of the reasons why they still met at inns. 

“Besides,” she continued with a grin, “You’re the one paying.”

“And why would I be paying?”

“Assassin business, and since you are the leader and the richest one out of all of us it’s only right that you pay.” Connor shook his head but didn’t argue as he turned to Duncan.

“Duncan,” The man in question turned away from looking longingly at the bar back to Connor who inclined his head towards the at the front of the Inn. “Make sure the crowd keeps up this energy.”

“Are you still going to pay for it?” Duncan asked looking excited, Connor sighed in exasperation but nodded. Why did all his recruits only ever think about money and drinking?

Duncan grinned and took the bag of money Connor offered him and made his way to the front, he yelled something to the crowd that Connor figured could only be a promise of a new round of alcohol based on the cheer it received. Connor again turned back to Dobby and leaned across the table. 

“The Order died with Lee over a year ago, he was the last Grandmaster.” Dobby shook her head and leaned closer. 

“Charles Lee was the last of the leading group founded by the Grandmaster Haytham Kenway. But he was not the last of people who believe in Templar ideals.”

“Who is it this time?”

“We don’t know yet, I’ve just heard rumours about some mass slave selling going on in both New York and Boston, my informants tell me that both incidents have links to the Templars.” 

“Do they know where the people who have been sold have gone to?” He asked scowling at the mention of slaves. It was one of the many things he didn’t agree with in this new ‘free’ land. He remembered that day in New York after the remaining English soldiers had left when he had seen people being sold in the marketplace like they were no more than items to be owned, and he could clearly remember his disgust at the sight.

Dobby shook her head and took his untouched tankard. “Once they are sold their purchase records are being removed, we have no idea where they’ve gone or who bought them.”

“Have you heard of anyone asking about an amulet?”

“No, I would’ve already sent word if they had.” Connor sat back in his chair a scowl gracing his face in his concentration. Ignoring the din that was coming from the bar Connor thought about this new information for a few minutes.

The last Grandmaster had been killed over a year ago now, if there had been another one chosen, he would have heard about it already. The Templars had big plans and didn’t usually keep them quiet. However, he had heard nothing that was out of the ordinary until today.

The Templars in his Father’s time had been looking for the amulet and the hidden temple that his people had protected. After Connor had taken the necklace from Lee and buried it by Achilles’ grave he had warned his recruits to inform him if anyone was found asking or speaking about either. 

Which again, nobody had. He’d have to go back and see if Achilles’ old books and reports mentioned any Templars who still might be around.

Connor looked in the direction of Duncan who had stood on a table and was singing loudly with the others and caught his eye. Nodding at him Duncan slowly finished his song and staggered off of the table towards Connor and Dobby, raising his tankard and shaking his head to those who called him for another song. Duncan threw himself into the chair beside Connor and sagged down into it, looking as if he was as drunk as the some of the patrons. But his eyes held a cunning look that showed that most of this was an act, and he wasn’t as completely drunk as he appeared.

“What do you need Connor?” He asked. Connor relayed the conversation he had just had with Dobby and the information she had provided. He gave them both instructions, Dobby was to go back to New York and try and find out where the sold slaves were disappearing to, and Duncan was in charge of mobilising the Boston Assassins and getting them trained quicker in preparation for any possible attacks. The two agreed without question to his instruction and Connor stood up to leave and bid them farewell.

“Surely you aren’t heading home now?” Duncan said in disbelief, “You need to rest, we rode through the night twice to get here!” 

“I can take short rests on the road if I must.” Connor replied. Duncan shook his head.

“You can stay at my house for tonight, I’m sure my family won’t mind.” Duncan offered in a tone that showed he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Connor gave in and accepted his offer, they both stood up and he had begun to follow Duncan towards the door when Dobby voice once again called out to him.

“One more thing Connor” He turned to face her and noticed the serious look in her eyes, “Johnson’s wife, we found her, she’s gone back to live in his house.”

Connor’s face stiffened and he gave a curt nod and swiftly left the building back into the frosty streets towards Duncan’s house. The mood was quiet and sombre as they made their way down the streets. Connor fingers subconsciously reached down to the pouch at his waist, lightly touching the item that he had been carry there for almost a year.

“I know what I need to do about the situation, but what are you going to do now?” Duncan broke the silence, talking quietly so they weren’t overheard by any possible prying ears.

“I will return home to find out more information about this Templar business.” Was Connor’s reply. “But I need to go somewhere first.”

________________________________________  
And so the plot thickens, or starts at least. Hope you are all enjoying the story so far and remember to leave comments (I love reading them!!)

Just in case anybody was wondering, the way to pronounce Oni:dä’s name is:  
O-ū-nee-dah  
(O as in ‘oh no’)  
(ū as in ‘zoom’)  
(nee is pretty self-explanatory)  
(dah is how it sounds, just you extend the ‘ah’ sound at the end a little bit)

(P.S I’ve been back and edited the previous chapters because I realised I’d got the dates completely wrong)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

14 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

Oni:dä was worried.

Not seeing her husband due to his work was one thing.

But having him disappear entirely with no word was another altogether.

On the first day she thought it was normal, and went about her usual tasks of making sure everything was clean, going to the farm to give the food scraps to the pigs, collecting medicinal plants in the forest, and clearing the snow and ground form around the manor. A The man named Norris had come in the afternoon to see Ratonhnhaké:ton, but after looking around for a while with no luck he had just picked up some papers addressed to him on the desk and said his goodbyes to Oni:dä without a worry.

Then at night she had waited to see if Ratonhnhaké:ton would come back before making food for the both of them. After he didn’t return Oni:dä had eaten her portion and then left his on the table for whenever he came back. The food she had left for him in the evening was always there untouched when she woke up the next morning. This didn’t really concern her, as he never usually ate the food she left out, she really just left it in case he decided to eat it one day.

Oni:dä’s concern was with the candle upstairs. For the past few nights she had lit them and then woken in the morning to find that they had all melted into stubs, she would then look over to see that he wasn’t in the room again. After one day she hadn’t thought about it.

But it had been almost three days now.

After walking into the kitchen to find the same plate of food she had left out before, she gathered it up and put it in the basket she had woven the week before and made her way out of the manor towards the farm, as was her usual route, to give the pigs the scraps.

Walking along the dirt road with no one around, Oni:dä was left with only her own thoughts for company. She had tried these past few days not to feel worried and had purposely tried to look out for him during the day, but she had never once seen him. As the days he was gone had begun to increase, her worry increased with them.

Walking past the building Ratonhnhaké:ton had told her was the Homesteader’s church, Oni:dä tried to continue to convince herself that there was nothing to be worried about, telling herself he was just busy and that’s why she hadn’t seen him.

But her own imagination gnawed away at her, maybe he’d gotten hurt somewhere when he had gone out in the evening to scout, or what if something else had happened to him? With these thoughts churning in her mind, she unconsciously began to move faster down the road.

“Good morning Needa” A voice called out. She turned to see the old man from the church waving at her. He walked over to the fence and looked at the basket in her hands. “Going to Prudence and Warren’s to feed the pigs?”

Oni:dä nodded and smiled at him. She liked the old man. He understood that she had difficulty with the language he spoke, and he would speak simply and slowly without making her feel stupid for not knowing his language, as the other colonials she had met at the markets long ago had done.

“Well I’ll see you later then.” The old man smiled and began to continue going his own way towards the church.

“Ah excuse me.” Oni:dä said, he turned back to her somewhat surprised that she was actually speaking to him. She struggled with the words for a moment. “Have you seen Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

The old man frowned at her. “Have I seen ratoon?- radonga- hay? I’m sorry my dear, but I don’t know that word.”

Oni:dä was surprised. This man definitely knew her husband, she had seen them speaking together before. She tried again.

“Tiakení:teron, my Ratonhnhaké:ton” She had forgotten the word for husband in his language so had settled for her own language. But this didn’t help, he just looked more confused.

“I am sorry, but I don’t know what that means.” He looked just as helpless about the situation as she felt. She faked a smile and managed to tell him it was okay and quickly returned to walking down the path.

Making her way to the farm she fed the pigs and asked the woman named Prudence, who she recognised from the wedding ceremony, then same question she had asked the old man at the church.

But this didn’t help either, Prudence also didn’t seem to remember who Ratonhnhaké:ton was and when she called her husband over he had not known either. At this point Oni:dä had quickly said her farewells to the two, and made her way to the Manor starting to seriously worry about the fact that everyone she had met had not seemed to know her husband.

For a brief moment, she considered that they all could be playing a cruel trick on her. But she shook her head. These people weren’t like the others that she’d seen before in the towns near her village. The people at the Homestead were all kind and treated each other like family. They were also trusted by Ratonhnhaké:ton and Oni:dä trusted them too.

The most likely scenario she could think of was that he had got hurt in the forest. It wasn’t impossible, and the more she thought about the more likely it seemed. She had heard stories in her village that hunters hadn’t come back because they were attacked and dragged away by a bear or a lion.

Crunching through the snow Oni:dä made it back to the manor and putting the basket on the table she turned around and grabbed the buckskin that hung near the door. She threw it over her usual clothing and once again made her way back out of the house and into the surrounding forest. Trudging in the thick snow she looked for him and any possible tracks or signs of an attack but to no avail. She was so engrossed in her task that she didn’t even notice that the sun had risen high in the sky now, nor how far she had wandered.

It had just started to snow again when Oni:dä heard footsteps approaching, she began to move quickly towards the sound hoping that it was the person she was looking for. She turned around corner only to come face to face with an astonished Myriam.

“Oh, Needa! What are you doing at this side of the forest?” Was the surprised question from Myriam. “It not safe here, I saw a wolf pack near here not a day ago.”

“I am looking for Ratonhnhaké:ton” She asked Myriam hopeful that she of all people might know where Ratonhnhaké:ton was. Myriam after all, was one of her husband’s close friends, and was one of the people most likely to know where he might have gone.

“Is that a type of plant? Would you like me to help you look?”

Oni:dä heart dropped at this kind, but useless, response. She didn’t know what else to do and the panic was beginning to set in that she would never find Ratonhnhaké:ton again and that he had been hurt by the wolf pack that Myriam had mentioned. She thanked Myriam and began once again to frantically look in the surrounding area.

Myriam, who was beginning to worry about the Onondaga woman who had married her friend, now stayed by her side and tried to convince her to go back home and stay safe from the wolves.

But Oni:dä refused and continued to run around panicked, looking for any sign of Ratonhnhaké:ton, and Myriam began to worry about the native woman’s mental state. It was, in this situation, that they were found by another person.

“What is going on Myriam?” A man’s voice broke through Myriam’s near constant pleading for Oni:dä to go home. They both turned to look and were met by Norris’s confused face.

“Norris!” Myriam said with some relief and ploughed through the snow towards him and began speaking in an agitated way. Oni:dä couldn’t hear what she was saying but the way that Myriam kept pointing in Oni:dä’s direction made no question about who they were talking about.

But Oni:dä didn’t care, she needed to keep searching for Ratonhnhaké:ton. Norris soon came over to her side with Myriam in tow.

“Needa, could you tell me what you are looking for?” Norris said kindly. Oni:dä hesitated.

Was there even a point? None of the other people at the Homestead seemed to know who Ratonhnhaké:ton was. Would this man be any different? She steeled herself for another failure but answered him all the same.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton has gone.” She said slowly with only a shred of hope that he might know what she was talking about. Norris frowned and looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Radon-?” he muttered under his breath trying to figure out the words she was saying. Oni:dä tried again one last time.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, my Tiakení:teron.” This time she pointed at herself as she spoke the last two words. Norris once again looked thoughtful for a moment and Oni:dä began to hope that he might understand what she was trying to saying to him.

“Needa,” he began slowly, “Are you speaking about your husband?”

Husband! That was the word in their language, the important one that she had forgotten.

Oni:dä could have cried with relief. She held onto that piece of information and focused all of her attention on Norris, completely missing Myriam’s confused look.

“My husband Ratonhnhaké:ton” She said holding onto to Norris’s arm, “Have you seen him?”

Norris now looked less confused but still just as worried at Oni:dä’s state.

“Has he been gone for a while now?” He asked. Oni:dä nodded and he sighed putting a hand over his eyes for a moment before looking back and smiling. “He’s probably away on business, there is no need to be looking out here for him.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton wasn’t lost or dead, he was just away from the village on business. Oni:dä didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. Sinking to the ground in relief, she put her head in her hands as the fear and imaginations that had crowded her thoughts throughout the day now vanished. Myriam and Norris both moved forward at this in astonishment and, after reassuring the both of them that she was fine, she thanked them and made her way back to the Manor.

If Ratonhnhaké:ton was away because of business then he would probably be back soon. The men at her village were only away for two to three days, which meant that her husband would probably be back in the next few hours.

But as the hours passed and the evening progressed, Oni:dä again became more anxious as Ratonhnhaké:ton never arrived back. She was making food in the kitchen when she heard the door creak as someone entered, she looked around with a hopeful look.

Her face fell as both Myriam and Norris both entered the room. She smiled at them but their joint expressions of pity showed that they had seen the crestfallen look on her face.

“He hasn’t come back yet?” Myriam asked, Oni:dä shook her head.

“Not yet.” Both Myriam and Norris sighed and turned as if to leave. Knowing that she didn’t want to be alone right now Oni:dä quickly spoke again. “Would you eat with me?”

Norris and Myriam looked at each other before coming and sitting at the table with her.

“Thank you for the offer,” Norris said lightly, “Any chance to avoid Myriam’s cooking is a good one.” Myriam nudged him in the ribs with a small laugh as Oni:dä passed them a bowl of food each, to which they accepted gratefully.

“So Needa, what did you say your husband’s name is?” Myriam asked after she had swallowed some food.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton”

“I’m not even going to try and pronounce that right now.” She leaned back in her chair and whistled. “Who knew that Connor had another name?”

“Connor?” Oni:dä questioned with come confusion. Myriam nodded.

“That’s the name I’ve always known him by, and what everyone here at the Homestead calls him.“

That explained why the people that Oni:dä had spoken to that morning, had acted like they didn’t know who she was talking about. Ratonhnhaké:ton had a different name that he used amongst the colonials, and she cursed herself for never noticing.

“Actually…” Myriam turned to look at Norris with a raised eyebrow as she seemed to remember something, “You didn’t seem that surprised when Needa said the name, and you actually managed to figure out what she was talking about.”

Norris shrugged.

“I’ve known for a while that Connor wasn’t his first name. I just didn’t know what his real one was.”

“You could have at least told me Connor wasn’t his name. What if we’ve offended him?”

“I’ve had this conversation with him before. It doesn’t make a difference, he’s still the Connor we all know and love” Norris said nonchalantly, seemingly unconcerned about his mildly perturbed wife. “Besides who am I to say what a person should be called when I didn’t want to be called by my real name”

Myriam choked on her food at his words and Oni:dä quickly brought her a cup of water. After she had stopped choking Myriam looked at Norris in disbelief and he winced as if he had said something he really didn’t want her to find out about.

“Norris isn’t your real name?!” Myriam demanded. “What’s your real name then?”

“My birth name is Maurice.”

“Why did you never tell me?!”

“Because it wasn’t important.” He protested feebly.

“’Because it wasn’t-‘“ Myriam spluttered, “Norris we’re married!” After a brief moment the anger seemed to leave her and she sighed.

“I don’t have the energy to think about this now. But-,“ Myriam poked Norris in the chest and looked at him with narrowed eyes. “We will be speaking about this later.”

Norris gulped, and clearing his throat he turned to looked at Oni:dä, who had been watching this exchange with some amusement, quickly changed the conversation.

“Anyway. I’m sure Connor will be back in no time” he said to her “He always comes back no matter how long he’s been away.” Myriam nodded in agreement at her husband’s words.

“Connor usually doesn’t tell people when he leaves.” She said with a int of irritation. “I’m sure he’ll be back in no time.”

“Is he- away long?” Oni:dä asked slowly making sure she said the correct words. Her dinner companions looked at each other again, both seemingly unwilling to answer the question, Myriam hesitated before answering.

“Not all the time.” She said rather helplessly. “But he does sometimes go, and we don’t see him for a few months…”

Seeing the look of dismay pass over Oni:dä’s face Norris quickly spoke up.

“However, most of the time he will come back within a week.” He said encouragingly patting her hand from across the table.

Oni:dä’s heart sank. They didn’t know when he would return. No one could give her the answer she needed most at the moment.

They sat together for a while. Myriam and Norris asked her questions about her life and tried to lift her spirits. But while she answered their questions and smiled at their interactions with each other, each of them knew and understood that her mind was elsewhere. As the sky grew darker they said their goodbyes and, promising to visit tomorrow, they made their way back to their own home leaving Oni:dä alone in the large house.

She was sad once they left. After having grown up with a whole village constantly around she liked having the company. Being left in a huge building alone was jarring in comparison to her life in the Onondaga village.

Oni:dä made her way up the stairs into the bedroom and attempted to sleep. She tossed and turned in the bed for a few hours unable to fall asleep. Her mind whirled with endless worries about when her husband would come back, or even if he would return. Even though Myriam and Norris had said he would come back eventually, she still couldn’t be comforted by their words.

After staring at the canopy above the bed for a while Oni:dä got up, she grabbed the furs from the bed and the lit candle before padding down the wooden stairs towards the kitchen. Sitting down at the kitchen table she placed the lit candle in front of her and drew the furs closer around her.

The room was cold and the flickering of the candle made dark shadows dance across the walls. Noises came from outside as the night dragged on. But none of them were ever Ratonhnhaké:ton returning.

But she still stayed sat in the kitchen and waited. Wide awake and left to her own thoughts in the otherwise empty Manor.

\------------------------------------

15 January 1784 – Johnson Hall, Johnstown

Connor slowly walked up to the house that he hadn’t seen in over a decade.

It looked the same as it had back then, the white manor with is green shutters with the two other brick buildings that surrounded it. It had all been kept with the upmost care, Connor had half expected it to have become decrepit through the abandonment after Johnson’s death.

But there it still stood in all its glory with people bustling about, going about their daily tasks in the fading light.

The Johnson Hall truly was a remarkable place.

He avoided the people as much as possible as he moved from between them looking around for Johnson’s wife. He had asked for Dobby to keep eyes and ears open for news of Johnson’s mohawk wife Molly, but she had never had any success. The only information they had found was that not long after William Johnson’s death she had left with no trace. He had begun to wonder if they would ever be able to find her.

A group had gathered in front of the main house and he made his way over. As he neared the cluster of people, he could hear a woman sharply giving orders. Making his way over to the voice he soon spotted the owner, who was in the middle of all the bustle by a table covered in papers.

She was an older Mohawk woman with greying hair, with wrinkles that were beginning to show on her face. She was covered in furs to keep out the cold as she spoke to workers in the chill January evening. A younger mohawk man stood by her side writing what she said in the book he held as she directed where the food should go or what parts of the house needed fixing.

Connor took a deep breath and walked determinedly towards the table. As he came closer, they heard his footsteps and looked up from what they were doing. His eyes met the older woman’s and a look of painful recognition passed over her face.

She knew who he was already.

The man stepped out from behind the table and walked forward to block Connor’s way, with a look of distrust on his angular face. His stance already in a position to fight if the occasion demanded it.

“Who are you and what is your business here?” he inquired of the taller Assassin. Before Connor could answer the woman spoke with the faintest hint of panic in her voice.

“George come away from him.”

“But Mother-“

“Come away my child.” She walked in between the two and gently pushed George back towards the table. Connor had the feeling she was purposely trying to put a safe distance between him and her son.

“You stay and overlook the last of the arrivals, I will talk to our visitor.”

George hesitated for a moment looking as if he was going to argue. But he relented with a last mistrustful glance in Connor’s direction and walked back to the table and began to talk to the workers. The woman beckoned for Connor to follow her as she walked towards the house. He followed as she made her way into the house to a dark parlour. She lit the candles by the fireplace and then sat in a chair by the window.

“I take it you are Molly Brant?” He asked her, not really needing the answer.

“I am.” She gestured to the chair opposite her own, “Please sit Connor.”

This confirmed his suspicions that she already knew who he was. He sat in the chair she had pointed to and spoke.

“I have been trying to find you-”

“I no longer live in this country. After the house was seized by the Colonials I moved to the English settlement in Ontario. I managed to purchase this house again from Silas Talbot last autumn, he was more than happy to be rid of it, he never cared for the place,” she looked around the peeling walls with some disgust, “Leaving my husband’s hard work to ruin.”

“Will you go back to Ontario?”

“After I make sure that this home is well cared for and truly becomes my husband’s legacy then I will return there.”

Molly leaned over and pushed the shutter. The room filled with the dim light of evening sun and the bustle from the courtyard became louder. She motioned for Connor to come and look. Connor moved towards the window and looked out onto the courtyard.

The people below moved at a swift rate, and George Johnson stood in the place his mother had been directing people, he occasionally called out orders and directing the final boxes into the red brick buildings.

“These people” Molly said gesturing to the crowd, “They used to work here whilst my husband was alive. As soon as they found out that I had bought the Hall the ones that could came back.”

“The ones that could?” Connor took his eyes away from window to look at Molly. She nodded.

“The day they blamed us for being Loyalist, they forced my family out of our home. But they also blamed any others who were associated with us.”

“But none of you had done anything wrong.” Connor protested.

“That didn’t matter to them. Some of the workers had the same thoughts as you and protested against the removal.” Molly looked away from the window and drew the furs closer to her. “They killed them where they stood, the rest fled in terror and the bodies were tossed into unmarked graves.”

Connor looked back to the courtyard. He was horrified. Once he had killed Johnson, he had thought that the people had gladly left and had abandoned the place without a caring if it came to rot and ruin. To find out now that he had left this trail of undeserved pain and suffering was another painful circumstance that was caused by his past actions. Connor moved back to the chair opposite the Mohawk woman and they sat there in silence for a moment whilst Connor struggled to find the words to say.

What could he say? He had ruined so many people’s lives when he had hoped to help them.

Sacrifice the Templars to save the many. That’s what Achilles had taught him, and so that’s what he had done. He had believed in the method. But as he saw the consequences of the actions he took, looking at these many lives he had ruined, he wasn’t sure anymore.

“I cannot take back what I have done.” He said in a low voice breaking the silence, “But I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you and your family.”

There was another moment of silence before Molly finally spoke.

“Do you know what we called him in the language of our people Connor?” She asked looking up at him with tired eyes.

Connor shook his head unable to utter a sound. He hadn’t known much about the man apart from he was a Templar and that he needed to be removed to help the Assassin cause and to help his village. Tears began to shine in the aged woman’s face.

“Warraghiyagey. You know what this means?”

“’A man who undertakes great things.’” He translated hoarsely. William Johnson had been loved by many people, and he had helped many people. He was known about as a great man and his death was still mourned by many.

So many people had relied on Johnson and he had ruined that with one angry moment. He’d been so focused on stopping the Templars that he’d never known or bothered to find out what the true consequences would be. He had seen Johnson aim a gun at one of the chief’s heads and had seen red, this action alone had confirmed to Connor, at the time, that William Johnson needed to die for the greater good. The man had done wrong and he had needed to be stopped.

So Connor had killed him. He had been such a fool back then thinking that a death could solve any problem.

She needed to know. He had to at least give her the reason why he had ended Johnson’s life.

“He was forcing the chiefs to accept his plan. He was taking away their freedom.” He said quietly. That was all he could say without going into detail about the ongoing Templar and Assassin war.

“I know what kind of a man he was.”

“Then you understand why I did what I had to do.” At this she shook her head.

“He may have had made mistakes. But the good he did far outweighs the bad in my mind.”

“He nearly killed the Haudenosaunee-”

“I know what he tried to do before you put an end to his life. I am no stranger to his faults. You may have hated him, but I loved him.” She interrupted him sharply, Connor stayed silent as she continued. “You may think me selfish and mistaken, but I can’t help but wonder if life would have been better if he had continued to live, even if his method was wrong.”

Connor didn’t respond. It was the same question he had been asking himself for many years now.

Molly continued.

“I forgive you Connor, I understand why you did what has been done and I am grateful that you came, because now I understand your motive. Your intentions were noble.”

Connor started and looked up at her. He hadn’t expected forgiveness, he had just wanted to apologise. Molly didn’t notice his sudden start as she had once again looked out the window, unwilling to look him in the eyes.

“But I cannot trust you. I sent my son George away from you because I feared you might do the same to him that you did to my husband. I have lost too much of my family to both you and the war. I couldn’t bear to lose another.”

Each word she spoke to him felt like a blow.

“I understand.” He said quietly. She looked back at him with tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.

“Never come in front of my family again Connor.”

He bowed his head.

Her words made Connor’s blood run cold. Although being forgiven was more than he had expected he still felt hollow inside. He stood up and carefully took the item he had been carrying out of one of the pouches on his belt. He walked towards the table that was by the side the crying widow.

“I thought this would be better left with his family.” He carefully placed on the small table William Johnson’s beadwork that he had taken from the dead man years ago, as a memento of a task complete. Molly reached a shaking hand out and picked it up, she clasped it to her chest and cradled the item as if it was precious to her. 

Connor now only had one thing left to say.

“No life should be seen as a trophy to others, no matter what they have done. I am sorry.”

At this Molly’s composure broke and her sobs grew louder. Connor watched on for a moment, he had nothing he could say that could alleviate her pain, and she had no wish to speak to her husband’s murderer anymore.

He turned and left the room. The loud heart-wrenching sobs echoed in his head long after he had left Johnson Hall.

He never stepped foot there again.

\---------------------------------------------

I'm back. I know it's been a while and i really have no good excuse for that. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, if you did remember to leave kudos and comment! I love reading comments (thanks Boatslover, Ashtonix, and AlphaTango)

Fun fact: Molly Brant and George Johnson were real people if you want to go check them out.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

16 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

He entered the Homestead the day after with some relief. Johnson’s wife’s words from the previous day still echoed in his head.

The Homestead residents waved at him as he rode past and he gave a small greeting to each. He made his way down the track to Norris’s mine to see if his friend had got the trade route papers that had been signed, before planning to go back to the Manor and look into the information that he had about the Templars in Boston and New York. Trotting down the track, he heard rumble of the mine cart and Norris’s singing before he actually saw the man himself.

The mine soon came into sight and Connor spotted Norris picking up ore from the mine cart and putting it in the horse wagon that he usually took up to Big Dave’s smelter.

“Norris!” Connor called out in greeting. Norris turned to look at him and grinned.

“Connor!” Norris gave him a quick wave before putting the last of the ore in the wagon. “Glad to see you’re back.”

“Did you get the papers I left for you?” Connor called back dismounting and walking towards the mine. Norris nodded.

“I’ve already sent them and I’m hoping to get the confirmation in the next week or so.”

“That is good to hear. It sure the new route will help your mining business greatly.”

“I hope so.” Norris turned to collect his tools and Connor moved forward to help him, picking up the shovel and wiping it down before putting it in the shed that was near the mine that he had helped Norris build many years ago.

“I’m actually surprised your wife let you come out and greet everyone.” Norris laughed after putting his pickaxe in the worn-down shed. “I thought it was definitely going to be a while until she let you leave the house again.”

Connor was confused at the statement.

“Why would she try to keep me in the house?” He questioned. The laughter left Norris’s face immediately and he grew serious.

“You haven’t seen her yet?” The way Norris said was as if he hoped Connor would prove him wrong. But Connor couldn’t, he just shook his head. Norris’s jaw dropped open in a look of both horror and disbelief.

“Then what the hell are you doing here bête?!” He began to shove the confused Mohawk down the path but with little avail, Connor was taller than him and a lot bigger build.

“I will make my way to the house soon after I deal with business” Connor tried to pacify his agitated friend. But his words seemed to anger the man and he began spitting out French curses as he continued to attempt to shove Connor along the road.

“You need to go back now Connor!” he stressed, “She has been worried about your disappearance for days, Myriam found her looking for you in the forest near the ridge the wolf pack now lives a few days ago. You never told her you were leaving or when you were going to come back and she panicked!”

Connor face felt the blood drain from his face as the seriousness of the situation began to dawn on him.

How could he have forgotten?

He was so used to leaving whenever with no one minding, or sometimes not even noticing, that he was gone that he had just left without a word to Oni:dä. In her mind he must have just abandoned her one day without word. Leaving her in an unfamiliar place with people she didn’t really know well and no way to know if he would ever come back. 

Without another word to Norris he ran back to his horse and, giving a quick jerk of the reins, raced back up the road that led to the Manor. Startled residents quickly moved off the road as they heard the horse thundering by, confused at the urgency of the rider. But Connor had no time to stop and explain it to them.

The Manor soon came in sight, and instead of following the road he guided the horse jump the fence that surrounded the manor rode up towards the Manor. As he reached the stables he jumped from the mount before it had even stopped and, running up to the Manor, he pulled open the door.

Making his way inside he quickly searched the downstairs rooms for his wife.

He quickly scanned the rooms hoping that she would be there, but she wasn’t. He paused as he entered the kitchen and noticed that the furs and candle that were usually in the bedroom were now crumpled at the large wooden table.

She must have been waiting for him to come back with no way of knowing when he would return.

How many days had she slept there waiting for the man who had just disappeared one day without a word?

Cursing his own lack of thoughtfulness, he made his way upstairs taking them two at a time. She wasn’t in the bedroom or any of the other rooms upstairs and he racked his brain to know where she might be.

For a moment he considered looking for her at Prudence and Warren’s farm when he recalled Norris saying she had been looking for him near the ridge and turned to head back outside worried that she might have gone back there to look for him. He was moving swiftly towards the stairs when he heard a noise that directed his attention towards the large window at the end corridor.

Moving towards it, he looked out of the large window and sighed in relief as he spotted his wife at the back of the house. She had cleared the freshly fallen snow from an area at the back of the house and was now crouched over it making mounds in the dirt.

Quickly going down again and striding out of the back door, he walked through the snow towards her.

As Connor came closer Oni:dä heard his footsteps and turned to see who was coming. As she saw it was Connor her face lit up and she moved over the mounds to run towards him.

“You’ve come back!”

She reached out for Connor as she approached and held onto his arms as if to make sure he really was there, and not a figment of her imagination. To his great astonishment she took his face into both of her hands and looked him in the eyes.

“You are unharmed.” Oni:dä’s hands dropped from his face and she put her face in her hands. “Thank the Great Spirit!”

He felt guilty as he remembered what Norris had said about how she had panicked and worried about him, the crumpled furs he had seen at the kitchen table and her reaction to seeing him proved those words. Oni:dä looked back up at him after a moment with more composed features.

“Where have you been?”

“I was in Boston, there was some urgent business that I needed to see to, that is why I left immediately.” That’s all he could say without going into detail about the Assassins and the conversation he’d had with Dobby and Duncan.

“Boston” Oni:dä frowned, “I thought that the journey to Boston doesn’t take that long from here?”

“Not usually, but I stopped on the way back-” Connor stopped himself, he couldn’t tell her about his stop off at Johnson Hall. It would come with more questions that he could not answer.

Oni:dä nodded in understanding, it seemed she hadn’t noticed his abrupt stop. Before she could realise and ask him about it, Connor changed the subject. Looking towards where she had been working, he moved his head.

“Do you need help?”

“It’s alright, I can do it myself. You are probably tired from your journey.”

As she turned back to the spot of fresh ground she stumbled. Connor reached out for her, but she had straightened herself out before he could catch her, he pulled his hand back before she noticed.

“Are you alright? You need to rest.”

“I’m fine”

“You don’t seem fine-“

“I am fine” She interrupted him and turned to pick up the basket she had left on the ground. Connor took it out of her hands and narrowed his eyes at her.

“You are probably more tired than I am,” he pressed her. Why was she being so stubborn about this? “I saw the furs in the kitchen, you have been sleeping at the table.”

“I haven’t slept at the table.”

Connor looked at her incredulously. The bags under her eyes told a different truth to the one she had supplied him with, there seemed to be something she didn’t want to tell him. Oni:dä saw his look of disbelief and sighed before talking quietly with a hint of embarrassment.

“I haven’t slept in the kitchen. I’ve stayed up the past two nights in case you came back.”

All annoyance left Connor as he felt another pang of guilt. They stood there facing each other quietly for a time before he spoke.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t need to stay up.” Oni:dä shook her head.

“I couldn’t sleep anyway...” her voice trailed off as her eyes once again became unfocused. Connor quickly dropped the basket and stepped forward, gently held her arm to stop her from falling over. She nodded her thanks before moving her arm out of his grasp.

“I’m fine, I can still work.” She repeated, but this time with less protest.

“No you are not.” He objected softly. “You’ll make yourself sick, you need to rest.”

“I can rest later, there is still light in the day.” Turning back to the patch of ground she began again to create furrows mindlessly whilst Connor stood above her. They stayed like this for a moment before Connor sighed and crouched down next to her.

“Oni:dä…”

Her movements in the ground froze, she turned back to him with a tired look.

“What’s the point?”, she questioned. “I need to get used to this if you are away often.”

Connor took a sharp intake of breath at her words. He knew she didn’t mean it in a cruel way or to blame him, but he still felt guilty. Oni:dä seemed to realise what she’d said and her eyes grew wider as she noticed his expression.

“I didn’t mean that-” She stumbled over her words. “I am sorry-“

“No.” He interrupted her. “You are right to think badly of me.”

“I don’t think badly of you,” Oni:dä said quickly, “I just meant that if this is normal then I should understand that you are busy and be prepared for when you…disappear.”

His wife’s words trailed off as she realised that her words seemed to make him feel worse rather than prove she didn’t blame him. Her eyes once again fixed on the floor and she continue working with the ground. Connor mindlessly moved his hands to help her in making the mounds of dirt as he tried to think of ways to make things right.

Eventually her voice broke him out of his thoughtful state.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.” He quickly looked at her, “It’s getting dark, we have done enough for the day.”

He looked around and realised that the sun was already beginning to set and that they had almost completed making all the mounds in the area Oni:dä had cleared in the snow. Connor looked at her in surprise and with some remorse as he saw that his wife looked even more exhausted than before, he was angry at himself for forgetting his original goal again.

Standing up, he brushed the snow and dirt from his knees and then held out his hand to help her up before picking up the basket and walking with her back to the Manor. Connor made sure he stayed slightly behind Oni:dä in case she slipped on the frosty ground in her wearied state.

Entering the Manor kitchen, Connor immediately put the basket on the table and gathered up the furs that had been discarded there. He turned back to his wife with a determined look.

“You are even more tired than earlier. You should go and rest.”

“But we haven’t eaten.”

“I will make food for you.” She looked at him dubiously.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton…”

He prepared himself to counter any more of her protests.

“…can you even cook?”

All the arguments he had made in his head vanished at her simple question. He looked at her surprised for a moment and then let out a small chuckle before responding.

“Maybe not as good as you could make, but it will be edible.” He gently propelled her towards the stairs. This time she went without protest no longer having the energy to oppose him, after dumping the furs on the bed he returned to the kitchen and quickly made some corn porridge and grabbed a loaf of bread for their meal. Juggling the two bowls and the loaf, he slowly walked back to the room.

Oni:dä had lit the fire in the room and already fallen asleep in the chair that was placed near the fireplace by time he came back. He smiled at the sight thinking about her earlier protests about resting.

Walking towards the bed, he slowly placed the bowl of food on the table by the side before going to where his sleeping wife was. Picking her up he carefully walked back to the bed and gently placed her there, trying not to disturb her too much.

As Connor moved to the doorway, planning on going and looking at the files on the Templars. As he got the doorway a stirring sound from the direction of the canopied bed made him turn back to look. 

Oni:dä had sat up in the bed and was looking at him with bleary eyes.

“Don’t leave” she murmured half asleep. He hesitated for a moment before moving back to the bed and pulling the furs over her, she laid back down obediently.

There were still things he needed to do, such as look at the files, and go scouting in the area. But as he looked at the woman on the bed, they seemed less important to him at the moment.

The Homestead had been fine without him for the past few days. Maybe he could forgo his usual nightly scout this time, and the files could wait until tomorrow. 

Looking at his sleeping wife he knew that it was right thing to do, he owed it Oni:dä after the stress he’d put her through over the last few days. 

He changed quietly and hung his clothes over the back of the chair, padding across the floor he made his way to the bed and got into his usual side. But this time he turned to face her.

The exhaustion was clear on her face now and Connor sighed. She was completely asleep by this point, but he felt the need to answer her request to not leave all the same.

“I won’t.”

\----------------------------------------------------  
Hey everyone! Hope you all liked the chapter. Remember to leave comments and kudos if you like it. (Hopefully one day i'll have a normal schedule for this story, sorry the updates have been so random)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

17 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State

Connor knew immediately it was a dream.

The flames rose high above the trees, glowing brightly against the ash covered sky. He could hear the screams and coughs as people ran in terror from the crumbling longhouses. Many were on the floor too injured to run from the destruction.

He remembered this day. It was one of the few days in his life that he would never be able to forget.

The day his village had burned.

He ran though the village as he had before all those years ago, dodging burning logs as they crashed to the floor crying out for his mother. Connor knew the route he was taking off by heart, he had spent many dreams over the years reliving the experience. Every dream he had of this time all ended the same as they had in real life.

With him being dragged away from her and hearing the sickening crack the roof caving in.

The dream shifted and Connor found himself in the flame covered longhouse. His mother was pinned under the collapsed roof beams and pleading with him to run as he ignored her desperate cries and continued to desperately lift the fallen wood. The wood didn’t move, he knew he wasn’t strong enough.

The dream shifted again, and he found himself walking once again through the village.

But this time the village had drastically changed.

Ash was now pilled where proud buildings had once stood. He could see his fellow villagers walking around aimlessly, their faces blank with shock as if they could not accept what had happened to their home. The cries of the injured and suffering filled his ears, everywhere he looked was touched by pain and destruction.

The village had broken that day, and it never had been the same afterwards.

The dream then shifted again. He was now walking between the charred longhouses where the beams still smoking. The villagers who could still move were now pushing through the wreckage moving the embers away with their bare hands, not caring about the burns to their hands, searching for family members who had been trapped underneath.

Hoping that they were still alive.

Like Connor was now doing.

_No._

Connor tried to stop himself. Desperately trying to stop his memory from taking him towards the longhouses.

Connor knew what was there and he wanted to turn away.

He didn’t want to see this scene again.

But he could do nothing to stop himself as the memory now took over the dream and moved him towards where he knew he would find his mother’s body.

Everything went dark as a hand covered his eyes and he was held him in place.

“Don’t look Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

“Let me go!”

_No._

“She is-“

“Let me see her!”

_Don’t look._

_DON’T LOOK!_

Connor sat bolt upright in bed breathing rapidly.

His body was tense and cold sweat trickled down his back. His heart thumped like a drum hard against his ribcage and his hands clenched the furs beneath him. Connor sat there for a while trembling in pain and horror at the memory of the day of the fire.

He exhaled slowly and tried to calm his rapid breathing. The room was silent now with only the faint creak from the trees, as the branches brushed together in the night-time breeze.

The sun had not yet appeared in the sky and outside was still dark, signifying that it was still the middle of the night. But Connor didn’t think he would fall back asleep even if he tried to at this point.

He wasn’t sure if he could bear to face the whatever dreams would come if he did try to sleep again.

Connor ran a trembling hand over his eyes and sighed.

He’d forgotten about this.

He’d forgotten about the dreams.

He had spent so many years helping others, rushing back and forth across the frontier, thwarting Templar plots, living up to Achilles expectations, fighting battles on land and sea, and trying to save his village, that it was rare he could catch sleep. When he did manage to find time to rest, he would quickly succumb to the exhaustion, trying to ignore the crushing weight of expectations and responsibilities, and would be too tired to dream.

Now Connor remembered why he kept busy, why he avoided sleep.

It was so he could avoid the nightmares.

Connor closed his eyes and sat there in the dark as he continued to breathe slowly pushing the memories to the back of his mind.

A shuffling sound came from his left and his eyes snapped open. Swiftly grabbing the blade that he kept under his bed, Connor held the knife out, peering into the darkness towards the sound.

His eyes widened as he realised where the noise had come from.

The abrupt movement from Connor as he had woken up, had caused his wife to shuffle in her sleep. She had been too exhausted to be woken up properly by him and had turned over, only mildly disturbed by his movements. Oni:dä now settled deeper into the furs, blissfully unaware of the blade that was inches away from her. 

Connor quickly moved the blade away and put it back under the bed. He was so used to waking up after Oni:dä had already gotten up and left to start her tasks for the day, that he had forgotten that she was still in the room.

He got out of the bed as quietly as he could, so as not to disturb his wife, and padded across the cold floor and towards the chair where he had laid his clothes out the night before. He dipped his hands into the near empty bucket of water that had been placed in the corner of the room and splashed it on his face before quickly getting dressed.

Connor crouched down by the fireplace and relit the fire that had died down during the night. Sitting there for a moment he watched the flames flicker back to life before placing some more logs and turning away, making his way over to the desk that stood near the windows. Sitting in the chair he absently picked up his mother’s gorget, as he had many times before, and mindlessly brushed his thumb against the cool metal surface, thinking about the past few days.

He had not forgotten what had happened yesterday.

The guilt he had felt at the sight of both the pile of furs in the kitchen, his wife’s tired face, and her wearied words about his sudden disappearance.

Connor looked over to the bed where Oni:dä was still sleeping.

On a usual morning she would have woken up before him and be out working around the Homestead already. But the last few days had obviously taken a toll on her, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself or to him.

He refused to leave her alone without a word again until he could properly explain why he had been gone for so long, and why he hadn’t told her.

Connor spent the next few hours fiddling with the beads that laid around the gorget as he waited for Oni:dä to wake up. Thinking about the memory he had been forced to revisit in his dreams and of his mother final words to him.

You must be strong my son.

Had he been strong?

He had wondered often about his mother and what she would’ve thought about the life he was now living. Would she agree with the choices he’d made up until now, or with the path he had chosen? With all that he’d been through and all the lives he had taken?

Connor wasn’t sure.

What about the choice he had made about the connection of the tribes? The one that had brought a new person into his life, and another tribe to protect. Thinking about recent circumstances he wondered whether he had made the right choice, and if hi mother would agree with his choices or scold him for his recent actions.

Connor put the gorget back on the table and looked outside at the rising morning sun. He needed to go to the library and look through the information about the Templars that Achilles had compiled when he was alive. The old man had been so paranoid about anybody that he had ever met, or had even just mentioned to him, that he had information about almost everyone.

Connor had once told him he was too paranoid and the old man had given him a withering stare before retorting that his so-called paranoia would help Connor more than he knew, and ‘he’d do better looking through it then disregarding it as an old man’s paranoid writings’.

Connor hoped Achilles was right. He needed that information, now more than ever.

The sound of movement brought his attention back to the bed in the corner of the room.

Oni:dä was now stirring as the morning light fell on her face, it had now risen high enough to shine through the upstairs window. She sat up and yawned, the furs that had been covering her fell back into the bed in a heap. She looked to the side of the bed where Connor usually slept, completely missing that he was sat at the other side. Her shoulders became rigid as she obviously believed that she had once again been left alone.

Connor felt the guilt resurface and quickly spoke up.

“I’m still here.”

His wife started violently, whirling round she looked at him with wide eyes. Connor also started, surprised at the reaction his words had caused. He hadn’t realised his words would be met with such a reaction. But as he quickly thought about it, he realised speaking to someone when they thought they were alone in a room probably wasn’t the most calming situation.

“Have you been here this whole time?” She asked composing herself and getting up from the bed. Connor nodded.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Connor watched as she crossed the room and splashed some water on her face, as her had done earlier, before grabbing the nearby shawl from the basket by the chair and throwing it around her shoulders.

“You needed the rest.”

She paused for a moment looking as if she would protest again, but she spoke quietly instead.

“Thank you.”

Connor nodded wordlessly. There was a short pause between them, as if neither of them knew what to do next.

Which was, as Connor thought, understandable. They had spent little time together before he had left and recent incidents hadn’t helped them in becoming closer.

Oni:dä pulled the shawl closer to herself and shifted slightly before breaking the short silence.

“You said you needed to talk to me?”

Connor walked over to where she was stood and stopped in front of her.

“I’m sorry for leaving without telling you.”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to tell me where you are going.”

“You have a right to know.” He pressed.

She shook her head as he spoke.

“I don’t want you to feel obliged to tell me everything you’re doing.”

“But it obviously caused you distress and-,“ Connor started to argue back before noticing his wife flushed faintly at his words and was now looking, her brows faintly furrowed, at the fireplace, not meeting his eyes.

He spoke again but softer this time.

“I want to tell you. I would like you to know.”

Oni:dä’s eyes flickered towards him for a brief moment, before averting them agin and nodding. Connor took that as a positive sign and continued.

“I often leave at unusual hours. This isn’t business for the Homestead, it is business that helps many more people and when I am called to leave, I am needed immediately.” He fiddled with the straps that held the leather gauntlet on his wrist as he spoke. Connor had to pick his words carefully, he needed to let his wife know of the circumstances of his journeying habits without telling her about the Brotherhood.

She didn’t deserve to be dragged into that mess.

“Most of the times that I leave I will not return for many days, this you have already seen, but sometimes I will be gone for even longer. When I leave, I am never sure of when I might return.”

Connor looked up from the leather gauntlet and noticed that Oni:dä was now looking at him intently, her brown eyes somewhat narrowed in contemplation. He was sure she had noticed his careful wording and continued, not wanting her to ask questions.

“From now on I will make sure that you know when I leave.” He paused a moment, “If that is what you want.”

Oni:dä nodded and spoke.

“Norris has already mentioned that your business usually takes you away for many days and sometimes it will stretch onwards for months.” Connor made a mental reminder to thank Norris later about his help. His assistance and words of assurance had helped Connor’s wife when no one else could.

“I know this, and it may be selfish to ask.” His wife now hesitated before she continued. “But is it possible to know when you might be back?”

Connor thought about it.

He never knew when he was going to be back for two main reasons. One was that he if he had no reason for returning to the Homestead then he would stay near in the towns or the Frontier, helping to guide the ever-growing population of Assassins and assisting in their training. Wherever he was needed he went immediately, going place to place irrespective of the days or weeks that it might take.

The second reason was much more sobering.

Connor had no confirmation of if he would ever return.

The fight with Lee at the harbour those few years ago had forcefully reminded him of that. He could still feel the dull ache of wound at his side where the beam had pierced him.

Connor was not a fool. He knew his own mortality and was aware that his situation was more life-threatening than others.

But he had chosen this path.

He had chosen to follow what Achilles had taught and he now knew the reality and the cost of his choice. He was willing to pay the price in lives for the price of safety and freedom for those who needed it.

Even if it was his own.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

Connor looked back at the woman in front of him who was waiting for his reply with a hint of worry on her face. He needed to let her know of the consequences and reality of his situation.

“I asked too much and I apologise.” His wife said firmly, “I do not need an answer, I can wait for your return.”

Connor made his decision right there.

“I will let you know how long my journeyings will take and I will return at that time.” He said determinedly. “I promise you I will return.”

Oni:dä looked surprised at his sudden fierce determination and she murmured her thanks with a hint of confusion, before turning and making herself busy with something else. Connor reigned in his emotions and watched unseeingly as she un-braided her hair.

He had promised something serious.

How could he promise not to die? It was something he had limited control over.

Nevertheless, he had promised it, and he intended to follow through with the promise. He didn’t want to make his wife suffer any more then she already had.

Would she even hear about it if he did die?

Would the news ever get back to her or would she be left alone again, wondering what had happened to him.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

Her voice came once again to him nervously and he hummed his response distractedly, still thinking of his promise and how he was going to follow through on it.

“Do you think you could get me some more water?”

Connor was drawn from his thoughts at the request, and he suddenly focused on what was happening around him.

Oni:dä had fully un-braided her hair now and taken off the buckskin shawl that she had been wearing, leaving her arms exposed to the cool winter air. She was now stood in-front of him looking conscious of herself.

Connor realised abruptly, and a little too late, that while his mind had been focusing on other things, he had unconsciously been watching her as she had been changing. To which she obviously hadn’t noticed until she had turned around, as she was now stood with the buckskin shawl now tightly grasped in front of her as her face was becoming decidedly more flushed with each passing moment.

He quickly averted his eyes before nodding and, taking the bucket from beside the fireplace, he swiftly made his way out of the bedroom hoping she hadn’t noticed the flush that was rapidly creeping up the back of his neck.

_______________________________________

Connor returned to the Manor with the filled bucket after some time, he had stayed away longer than the task had actually required, hoping to give Oni:dä some time to change, and to relieve himself of the embarrassment.

As entered through the front door, the sounds from the kitchen alerted him to the fact that she had already changed and had now moved on to other tasks. As he walked into the kitchen Oni:dä turned around and gave a faint smile, acknowledging his presence.

“Do you need me to take it upstairs?” he asked lifting the bucket up slightly.

“Not yet. Thank you, Ratonhnhaké:ton.” She took the bucket from his hands and took it to the copper pot she had placed by the fireplace, pouring it in before lifting the pot up and hanging it over the fire.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Could you go put out the fire in the bedroom? It was still smouldering when I left it.”

“Of course.”

Connor took the near empty bucket from her and walked back up the stairs to the bedroom. He poured it on the fire slowly, the hiss from the fire grew fainter as it slowly died down. Placed the now empty bucket by the side of the fireplace and stood up.

As he did this, something shined light into his eyes. He blinked and moved out of the way of the light, squinting in the direction of where the offending light had come from.

It was his mother’s gorget again.

Now the sunlight was glinting off the metal plate and Connor made his way over to it. As he did this, he noticed something he hadn’t when he was holding it in the dim morning light earlier.

It had sat on the desk in his room for many years along with the other mementos he had collected throughout the years. But no matter how many he collected this one would always be the one he would treasure the most. Since he was gone often, Connor hadn’t been able to clean the gorget regularly and, apart from a few rare instances where he did have the opportunity, it usually laid at its place on the desk gathering dust.

Yet as he looked at it now, he could see that his mother’s gorget was perfectly clean and the metal surface now shone in the sunlight.

Connor looked around the room, and for the first time noticed that everything had been cleaned and taken care of. The mats that had been slowly covered in dust had been shaken out and the cobwebs that had begun to appear in the corners of the room had now been removed.

His wife had been carefully taking care of the house and his precious items whilst he’d been gone.

Looking at the now carefully cared for gorget, a thought struck him. Connor clutched the gorget in his hands and swiftly left the bedroom to return to the kitchen. Oni:dä was still in the kitchen placing wooden bowls on the table when he entered, she turned to face him as he came closer.

“Would you like some porridge?” She asked gesturing to the pot, “It’s nearly done.”

“Not yet. Was it you who cleaned the desk upstairs?”

His wife noticed the gorget in his hands and gave him an anxious look.

“Yes, did you not want me to touch anything? I’m sorry I should’ve asked.” She quickly started to apologise, but her words began to trail off as Connor shook his head.

“No, I wanted to thank you. I don’t often get the chance to care for the items there and I’m grateful you’ve taken the time out to clean them.”

“Oh.” His wife looked surprised and, unsure of what to say, she turned away from him picking up one of the wooden bowls. Turning to the simmering pot she repeated her earlier question distractedly. “Would you like some porridge?”

“In a moment there is something- Oh, thank you.” He took the filled bowl from her hands.

She wasn’t looking at him, seemingly quite interested in stirring the porridge in the pot. Connor placed the bowl of steaming porridge on the table, he had not quite finished his task yet. 

“Oni:dä.”

“Yes?” She still didn’t look at him.

“I’d like you to have this,” he said holding the item in his hands out towards her.

At this she finally turned away from the cooking pot to look at the item he was holding out.

She took the necklace from him and turned it over in her hands.

“This is the one from the desk?”

Connor nodded. Oni:dä turned it over in her hand and looked at it.

“It’s a beautiful gorget” she murmured, touching it gently.

“It was my mother’s.”

Oni:dä froze, her fingers halting over the smooth surface. She looked back at him in surprise for a short moment before holding out her hands and going to give it back to him, but Connor didn’t take it.

“This is too precious to give to me.”

“In my care it has only gathered dust.” He said with a rueful smile gently pressing her fingers to close them around the gorget before taking his hands away from hers, “I don’t think my mother would have wanted it to lie useless on a desk gathering dust.”

“Are you certain you want me to have it?” Connor could sense there was an underlying meaning in her words, but he couldn’t understand what it was.

“You are my wife.” He said straightforwardly. “If anyone has a right to keep it, it would be you.”

She looked stunned for a moment before her fingers tightened over the gorget. She began to open the clasp on the back and put it around her neck. With his task completed Connor turned away.

“There is something I need to do. I will take the food with me upstairs and eat up there.”

He picked the bowl back off the table, before going to leave the room.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

Her voice called out to him and he automatically turned back to her.

Oni:dä was still stood in the same spot, the gorget was now placed around her neck and she looked down at it, brushing it gently with her fingertips.

He breathed in sharply at the sight, he hadn’t thought that the sight of his mother’s gorget on another’s neck would affect him.

But it obviously had.

His wife looked up at him, thankfully not hearing his intake of breath, and there was an emotion in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you. I will treasure it.”

Her voice was soft, and Connor felt his heart clench in an odd way.

He could only nod wordlessly before leaving the room.

_______________________________________

Hey Everyone! Don't worry I haven't abandoned this story! I've just been really busy and a lot of stuff has happened these past months (I won't bore you with the details). Remember to bookmark, leave kudos and reviews (Thanks Anonymous_creed and Berthold_Friedmann) I love reading all of your messages!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
17 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State 

Achilles had been Connor’s mentor.

He had trained the young Mohawk, who had turned up at his home, in the way which he had thought was the best. At first, he had been a harsh teacher, driving the grieving and stubborn child to the limits of what he was capable, trying at first to dissuade the boy from continuing with the training and to go back home.

But as he saw the potential in the young Mohawk the training changed into true lessons which, although they now had a focus, they were still just as gruelling.

However, no matter Connor’s issues with the method, he had to admit it had been effective.

Years of practise, and hours of training that continued through rain and sleet both during the day and some surprise training during the night were drilled into Connor’s head making his observation skills and fighting reactions second nature.

After many scrapes from losing multiple fights to Achilles, bruised knuckles, and some scars, now permanent reminders of his training on his fingers from activating the hidden blade incorrectly, Achilles had finally deemed Connor worthy to be the Assassin that he had approved of. 

Connor would always be grateful for what he had been taught and would respect the old man as his mentor.

However, Connor was wise enough to admit that Achilles had his flaws.

He had always been a paranoid man from the day Connor had first met him, he never allowed anyone to become close to him and he was always wary concerning the people around him.

No matter how innocent the people really were, and no matter how long he had known them, the old man had always been on his guard.

These were Connor’s thoughts as he poured over the volumes in the library.

He had gone upstairs to the library immediately after leaving the kitchen that morning and hours later he still found himself pouring over the many volumes in there. Both concerned about Achilles’ mental state at the time of recording these and impressed by the sheer amount of information that the tomes held within their pages.

Connor was already familiar with a few of these books.

Having been informed that he must learn about the nature of the people he was to protect and fight for, he had spent many hours studying a select few books from the library that Achilles had placed in front of him and instructed him to read.

These were mostly about the accounts of the Assassins who had gone before him, but there were some about the history and philosophy of the world that were now ingrained into his head. Being a foolhardy boy and eager to prove himself to his mentor, Connor had only read the required books and moved on, unaware of the knowledge that the dark oak shelves of the library housed.

That is until now.

Stored across the many shelves were heavy tomes, there was information about every Templar he had come across in the past, the people who were most influential in the Continental Army, the people who supported the loyalist cause, and those who did not.

This was something that Connor had assumed he would find, although it was in greater detail than he had anticipated.

However. The detailed information about every person at the Homestead, was not what he had expected.

It wasn’t just the Encyclopaedia of Man that Achilles had requested Connor to make and bring to him all those years ago. It was much more than that.

There was information about where each person had been before coming here and if they would be a threat to the Brotherhood or not. It gave a detailed account in Achilles sharp and neat script about their families, the way they had grown up, their mannerisms, and the things that each individual person liked or feared.

And instructions on how to take them down if they ever became a problem. 

Connor had stopped reading these volumes quickly feeling sick to his stomach, both saddened and concerned by the lack of trust the old man displayed throughout the pages for the people he thought they both had considered friends. He put the books in a pile on the floor next to the low table, determined to burn them once as soon as he was able not feeling it was right to keep. He didn’t want to breach the privacy of the Homesteaders, if they hadn’t already told him this information then they obviously didn’t want him to know about it and Connor wanted to respect their privacy.

Sighing Connor turned to the stack of books he had already taken off the shelf, leafing through the pages with some trepidation about what he might find.

To his immense relief he found that these next volumes were more useful than the last ones. 

There was information about all the key Templars in this set of volumes. There was information about William Johnson’s childhood, and which place he had gotten his education from, to how John Pitcairn’s family had lived and which types of injuries he had gained over the years that might make him vulnerable.

Connor had also found even more information about his Father’s past in Haytham’s tome. Haytham’s upbringing and family, that added to the information he had found in his father’s journal all those months ago. It spoke about Connor’s grandfather and his life in greater detail the Haytham’s journal ever had, and in a way that Connor knew that Achilles had met the man at least a few times in the past.

For this he was grateful to Achilles for keeping a strict record, but at the same time he wondered why the old man had decided not to tell him about this history of his family whilst he was alive.

He shook his head, not willing to dwell on circumstances that had already passed and could not be changed, and instead focused again on the task ahead of him.

However, it was not an easy read to get the information he needed about the Templars.

Along with these and detailed accounts, there was also information which Connor deemed unimportant in each of the books.

Connor had to sift through the heavy tomes of the Templars past, such as the way Benedict Arnold had liked to drink his tea and the servants and slaves he had kept on his summer property, and to whom and from Charles Lee had received his hounds, and what their names were. It also had detailed notes about all the women Thomas Hickey had ‘met’ with during his living years.

Connor had slammed this last book closed and immediately set it aside, quickly moving on to the next volume.

He spent the next few hours this way, studying each Templar and the connections that might have. Many had been mentioned, but after further study they were either already dead, or they had returned to England. He scoured the texts for any mention of Templar involvement in the slave trade in New York, but there was nobody mentioned who could be causing the trouble Dobby had mentioned up in New York.

A soft knocking sound at the open archway broke Connor’s concentration and he quickly turned to face the disturbance.

His wife was stood in the archway with a shallow dish in her hands. 

“Sorry for disturbing you,” She said quietly looking around at the mess of books that were now scattered across the floor before making her way across the room towards him to offer him the dish of food she had brought, carefully sidestepping the books. “But you never came down for any meals.”

Connor took the dish from her with a grateful murmur, before looking up at the windows and was surprised to find that the sun was already beginning to set. He hadn’t realised it was so late.

“I apologise, I lost track of the time.” He gratefully took the bowl and began to eat. His wife looked around the room at the books that were now scattered around.

The pile Connor had originally started on this table had slowly become dishevelled over the hours, and the once few piles had now multiplied to many stacks of tomes on the floor surrounding the low-down table.

She began to pick up some of the books that were near her from the floor and place them in neat piles on the short table, motioning for him to continuing eating as moved to help her.

“Are you looking for something?” She asked smoothing down the pages of a fallen book before she put it down and looked at him.

“I’m trying to find some information.” Connor sighed looking at the books, “I thought I might be able to find them in this library.”

“Is it to do with your work?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Have you managed to find anything yet?”

He shook his head with a quick rueful smile. She put the piles of books in her arms on the bookshelf and paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before speaking with a slight hint a hesitation in her voice.

“Would you like me to help you?”

Connor looked up from his bowl of food to her in surprise.

“You can read in English?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he inwardly winced at how surprised they sounded.

Connor hoped that they hadn’t come across as offensive as they sounded to him. But Oni:dä didn’t seem to mind as an amused smile flickered across her face, as if she had heard this shocked phrase many times before.

“Better than I can speak it unfortunately.” Her hand brushed the spine of the book she was holding before placing it on top of a, now neatly, stacked pile before turning back to him with a smile. “In hindsight it might have been better for me to learn the speak the language rather than read it. I can make sure nobody writes up unfair trade deals with my people, but I can’t ask them normal questions or speak to them properly.”

Connor let out a short chuckle in amusement. A thought struck him suddenly, he put aside the bowl for a moment and looked back at his wife.

“I could teach you if you’d like.” He said seriously, “How to speak the language.”

She looked surprised for a moment.

“Do you mean it?” 

“Of course. If you don’t mind an imperfect teacher who makes many mistakes himself.”

“I will accept your offer.” She said with a light laugh, and after pausing for a moment she continued, a softer tone than before. “Thank you Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

Connor nodded and continued to eat the rest of the food as they slipped into their usual silence. Now that each had said their piece, neither of them knew what to say to the other.

“Would you like me to help you read them?” Oni:dä voice broke through the increasing uncomfortable silence by asking her earlier question again. Connor looked up just in time to watch as she picked up the heavy tome and opening it, began to flick through the pages.

Connor saw the title of the book she held and, with dawning panic realised that the tome she held in her hands was Thomas Hickey’s.

In particular, the one with the information about Thomas Hickey’s ‘escapades’. 

In his panic, and in one fluid movement, Connor dropped the bowl down and jumped over the small table, swiftly removing the book from her hands closing it with a sharp snap. His wife looked up at him her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. She looked completely stunned at his sudden movement.

“Thank you for your offer, but this is something I need to do alone.”

“I understand.” She said, her lowering her hands, Connor noticed she was being careful not to touch anymore books, “I apologise for intruding.”

“You weren’t intruding, it’s just-” He sighed trying to find a way to explain the situation to her without having to mention the book she had just opened, “It doesn’t need to concern you.”

This answer did not seem to help the situation. He realised a little too late that if anything, his words had made the situation worse. A familiar look of hurt that he had often caused crossed her face before she quickly schooled her features and she didn’t look him in the eyes.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Her voice was low and steady, but something inside Connor knew that something wasn’t right, “I understand already.”

Before he could say anything else, she moved past him and through the bookshelf, he noticed a little absentmindedly that she was taking care not to touch him or the books. 

“Oni:dä.” He called out to her, not knowing what to say but knowing her need to say something.

She stopped and turned to look at him wordlessly, her face still had the same guarded look as before. They stood looking at one another for a short moment as Connor thought about what to say. He moved to the table and picked up the bowl of food she had brought for him, that he had dropped a few moments before. 

“Thank you. For the food and for the offer.”

Her eyes became softer and she nodded before disappearing back into the dark hallway.

Connor watched the spot she had been for a few more moments after she had left, before sitting back down in the chair by the table with a sigh, drawing a hand across his eyes at his own blunt way of speaking.

He’d insulted her again, and it was becoming an unfortunate, but common occurrence each time they spoke to one another.

Connor shook his head and turned back to the surrounding books, continuing to look through the various notes and journals for any information about the Templars.

But now his mind wandered, more troubled than before.

\-------------------

Hey everyone! Sorry it took so long to update, I have no good excuse this time... Hope you are all enjoying the story and remember to leave kudos and reviews, I love reading all of your reviews (Thanks uniseks, berthold_friedmann, gelato_san, and bwdp745)


End file.
